Pieces of the Past
by DarkDaisies
Summary: A life debt. A Marriage Law. A serial killer. - EWE, rated M for language, violence and sexual situations - Disclaimer: All characters belong to JK Rowling, but I wish they were mine, if that counts for anything.
1. The Debt

Chapter 1 - The Debt

"You shall not be swayed?" He eyed his wife warily, knowing the answer yet fervently hoping against hope his wife had recovered her senses.

"Lucius." Her voice was low, speaking his name as the warning it was.

"Cissa. He's our future. I'm simply.."

"Enough! I stood idly by while you dragged our son into that ridiculous error in judgement. You are exceedingly lucky the Minister pardoned us for *your* crimes. If my son had spent a single moment in Azkaban you would be wishing for The Kiss before I was done with you."

"Our son." Lucius Malfoy hissed inadvertently, cringing slightly at the wrath in his words.

"Do not test me, Lucius." Narcissa Malfoy cross her arms, exposing the pale skin below her elbows. Her sky blue robes clung suggestively to her figure, belying her age. She glowered at her husband, pacing the minuscule enclosed space within the Ministry of Magic.

Lucius Malfoy knew his wife proved a valid point. It was his fault their family was slowly reintegrating themselves into society. It was his fault they were still scorned and even treated poorly in social situations by those once considered friend.

He had blindly followed The Dark Lord. It was his wife and child who had changed his mind. The very idea of them ceasing to exist due to a warped ideology made him physically ill. He had quickly abandoned his support of The Dark Lord, thankful they managed to escape with their lives.

"Cissa, my darling, my love, I would.."

"You cannot tempt me with your sweet words, Lucius. You both agreed to my terms. We are quite fortunate the Minister for Magic passed this particular Marriage Law as well as informing us prior to it being enacted. Could you imagine if we were informed by owl? Draco would be forced to choose from the dregs of society! Fortunately, Minister Shacklebolt is quite attached to the treats Mimsy bakes. So what if I use that to our advantage? I *am* a Malfoy. We have a very talented house elf. We have an incredibly brilliant son, who has forgiven you your transgressions. Why should he not have the very best wife the wizarding world has to offer?" Narcissa's long peach fingernails tapped the edge of the mahogany test wedged into the corner of the tiny office.

"Of course he deserves the best!" Lucius huffed, irked by the very idea he would deign to believe his son deserved less. "However, her, Cissa?" He couldn't contain the curl of his lip, riddled with disdain. Narcissa smiled, her lush lips sliding across her pearly white teeth.

"I can work with her. She's a lovely girl. We've met for tea a few times. She *does* work at the Ministry. She and Draco seem to have a working relationship. Slightly strained, if I'm perfectly honest, yet that's neither here nor there. She's perfect for him, if you do not take her blood into account, which we shall certainly not. I never did care for your ideologies, Lucius. Our son is a spoiled prat. I love him, of course I do, yet he needs a strong willed witch. He requires a witch who will not cater to his demands. One who will stand up to him in the face of his idiocy. Don't look at me like that Lucius. She's the only witch to ever stand up to our son." Narcissa dared him to antagonize her further.

"What of her? Does she not deserve love?" Lucius choked on the word, solidifying his decidedly Malfoy façade. Narcissa searched his pale eyes for the slightest hint of truth.

"Lucius. He's perfect for her really. He'll challenge her intellectually. He'll infuriate her, yet he'll be kind to her, eventually. He'll love her long before he realises he does. She won't believe him in the least, for when have you ever known our son to care about anyone besides himself? He's a bit selfish. She loves a challenge. What better challenge than our son?" Narcissa pecked her husband's cool cheek with red lips and an easy smile.

"She'll agree to this then?" Lucius couldn't resist posing the question. He was having difficulty formulating his opinion on the matter. He agreed with his wife yet also disagreed. It was more than a blood issue. She wasn't raised in pure blood society. She didn't know how to hold herself, how to engage in conversations laced with barely concealed threats. Narcissa was a formidable teacher, yet how willing would she be to accept the tutelage.

"She owes Dumbledore a life debt."

"That old fool is dead." Narcissa's eyes flicked to the door, her head tilted slightly, listening to the murmurs outside the office.

"She's an honorable girl. Shacklebolt is having the letter delivered to her now." Narcissa fiddled with her string of pearls.

"I'm going to assume our son is delivering the very missive which will alter the poor girl's life forever." Lucius flicked his long pale hair over his shoulder, his face set in stone.

* * *

"Oi, Potter. Where's Granger? Shacklebolt has me playing bloody owl." Draco Malfoy burst into Harry Potter's office unceremoniously. Harry's green eyes never left the piece of parchment before him. He ignored the tall, willowy blonde as he plopped into an armchair. He ground his teeth as Draco's feet kicked over the quills set on the edge of his desk.

"Malfoy, must you? I'm bloody busy." Harry growled rereading the same line several times.

"Did you hear Shacklebolt is trying to get a bloody Marriage Law passed?" Draco inquired, easily ignoring Harry's irritation with his presence. Harry groaned, shoving the parchment away and crossing his arms. He was used to such interruptions.

While Harry Potter would not consider Draco Malfoy a friend the way he considered Ron Weasley, they had an easy rapport. Try as Harry might, he knew it wasn't limited to a work relationship. He simply couldn't hate the spoiled, obscenely rich man. Harry knew Draco Malfoy didn't need to work. The Malfoy fortune was well known throughout the wizarding community, and yet Draco chose to work for the Ministry, as an Auror no less. He knew Draco's true interest lied in Curse Breaking, but he refused to leave his position until the last of Voldemort's Death Eaters were safely ensconced in Azkaban. Harry respected that, but he'd never admit it to anyone besides his wife.

"A Marriage Law? Good thing, I've already a wife then eh? You on the other hand..." Harry smothered his laughter upon seeing the decidedly green pallor to Draco's face.

"Technically you stole my wife. I didn't want her, but that changes nothing. I could petition the Wizengamot for the acclaimed Harry Potter to return the bride bequeathed to Draco Malfoy..."

"Shut it." Harry tried, with much difficulty to maintain his scowl, yet it faltered slightly, causing them to laugh heartily.

"Could you imagine Stori's face?!" Draco guffawed loudly, clutching his sides.

"You fucking ferret." Harry removed his round glasses, cleaning them on his red tshirt.

"Oi. Scarboy. I've told you to stop calling me a bloody ferret." Draco grumbled, shuddering slightly in remembrance. "Fucking Impostor Moody."

"Yeah, yeah. Why are you here?"

"You have terrible hearing, Potter. I need Granger." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Stori's been saying that for years. Finally realise you fancy her?" Harry wiggled his eyebrows, antagonizing Draco.

"Fuck you. Shacklebolt wants me to hand deliver this." Draco pulled a sealed envelope from the inner folds of his robes, waving it in Harry's face.

"That's Dumbledore's seal. What is it?"

"He didn't bloody say. I didn't ask. He said and I quote 'Malfoy. Give this to Granger. Your parents are in the receiving office.' Then he left. Therefore, I'm looking for Granger and taking as long as possible to avoid my bloody parents."

"They're not that bad, Malfoy. Well, your mother isn't that bad. Your father..."

"Can suck it." Draco huffed, scowling.

"You've been watching too many telly programs again. Hermione is where she always is. I don't know why you even bother to ask." Harry shoved parchment into his desk drawer, locking it quickly and standing.

"Ugh. Why is she in the bloody archives? Oh never mind, it's the closest thing to a library we have." Draco heaved himself to his feet, shoving the letter back into his pocket. Harry shrugged. He hadn't a clue what Hermione had been working on the past few months. Knowing her as he did, it was probably related to saving some sort of Magical Creature.

"C'mon. I'll go with you. Stori wants me to invite you idiots for dinner this weekend." Harry and Draco walked through the halls of the Ministry together, ignoring the furtive glances and barely concealed whispers. They were used to such antics after working together the past few years.

"Is Weasel going to be there? I bloody refuse if he's coming. Last time was a bloody disaster." Draco might have had an amicable relationship with Harry Potter, but Ron Weasley was an entirely different story.

Ron refused to let bygones be bygones. He was still convinced Draco Malfoy was working undercover at the Ministry for the sake of gathering information for the few remaining Death Eaters. He proclaimed his hatred of the young Malfoy loudly and often.

"Stori said he's not bloody welcome in our home after his antics last time. I can't believe he hexed you in the middle of dinner. You didn't help matters any. You know how he is, especially where Mione is concerned."

"I touched her bloody hair! I didn't shag her on the table. Weasel has issues." Harry sighed, maneuvering around a small gathering of Auror Trainees.

"It's the same thing to him. He's completely deluded where she's concerned. He still believes she's going to take him back and they're going to live happily ever after." Harry pushed through the door leading to the Archives, lighting the lamps on the wall with his wand.

"Over my dead body." Draco grumbled, following Harry around the stacks of files to the small office in the back.

"I knew you fancied her." Harry snickered, his hand on the door knob.

"Shut it."

"You didn't deny it. Wait until I tell Stori." Draco mumbled under his breath something which sounded suspiciously like 'bloody gossip' as Harry shoved the door open, startling Hermione Granger.  
She was surrounded by piles of files, her curly brown hair pulled back into a messy bun. There were smudges of dirt on her cheeks and across her forehead.

"Tell Stori what, Harry?" Hermione's eyes never left the thick tome on the small desk. Draco kicked Harry in the shin, a warning flashing in his dark grey eyes.

"Oh, er, that you and Malfoy are going to accept her dinner invitation."

"Ron's not invited then? If he is, I'm not bloody going. He was a right git last time." Hermione bottom lip protruded as she puffed a light blast of air toward the escaped curls on her forehead.

"That's what I bloody said." Draco Malfoy crossed his arms and leaned against the nearest wall. Harry mumbled under his breath, something along the lines of them being perfect for each other, which earned him another sound shin kick.

"Hello, Malfoy." Hermione slammed the tome shut, wiping her dusty hands on her Muggle jeans, her robes thrown haphazardly across the chair behind her. Harry rolled his eyes at the light flush across Hermione's cheeks upon looking up at Draco.

"So, Granger. When are you going to marry me?" Draco winked, while Harry coughed, which sounded suspiciously like 'idiots'.

"Oh, next week." She laughed, embracing Harry quickly. "What brings you both down here? Very important Auror research?"

"It's my half birthday, I want my present." Harry pretended to slam his head into the wall.

Harry was amazed the brightest witch and brilliant wizard were this clueless. It was obvious they were attracted to each other. It was also obvious they enjoyed irritating each other, almost as if their arguments were a twisted sort of foreplay, but Harry knew better than to mention such things ever again. The one time he had actually tried to broach the subject, they had both jinxed him. It had taken him days to recover from the engorgement. He shuddered, instinctively covering his assets.

_Draco Malfoy had applied to the Auror program six months after Harry had begun. He was surprised when Draco was accepted, considering his actions prior to the war, but his family had made a valiant effort to cooperate with any and all investigations. It definitely didn't hurt that The Boy Who Lived and the Gryffindor Princess vouched for him.  
__  
__ Hermione had shrugged and said Draco Malfoy deserved redemption as much as anyone. Shortly after such a statement, Hermione and Ron's pseudo relationship dissolved into civility. In the spirit of acceptance she had purchased Draco a small gift and left it on his new desk. Harry remembered Draco staring at the gaily wrapped present in awe, almost afraid to touch it.  
__  
__ "Just open it Malfoy." Harry had found himself partnered with the former Death Eater. The sooner the git opened the gift, the sooner they could go out on assignment.  
__  
__ "Why would she give me anything?" Harry had to lean over to hear the soft spoken words. It occurred to him, Draco might never have received a gift before. He recalled the first year he had discovered presents under the tree for Yule.  
__  
__ "It's just something she does. She probably gave you the same thing she gave me. Just open it already." Draco fingered the red and gold wrapping, not even sneering at the obvious Gryffindor colours, which impressed Harry immensely. Draco shoved it across the small desk his eyes never rising.  
__  
__ "You do it." Harry scoffed, but pulled the gold ribbon off the box, raising the lid and smiling. Draco snatched the open box, peering inside. He tilted his head, a half smile on his lips.  
__  
__ "She charms them. Takes quite a bit of time. Ron doesn't even have one. They're to send messages. Quite a bit faster than owls and interoffice memos." Draco lifted the Golden Snitch out of the box, holding it tight.  
__  
__ "It's not even Yule.." Draco looked up to see a nervous Hermione Granger standing in the doorway, chewing her bottom lip. Harry watched Draco's eyes soften, though he still found the half smile slightly disconcerting.  
__  
__ "No, but it's your half-birthday." Harry had spun, glancing between Hermione and Draco, pinching the bridge of his nose._

Somehow, over the past four years it had become their private tradition. Harry's wife, Astoria thought it was completely adorable, to his chagrin.

"It's upstairs in my office. Your half-birthday is not until tomorrow." Hermione smirked, grabbing her robes. "Why are you lot here?"

"Malfoy's been demoted to office owl." Hermione frowned, her brown eyes flicking between Harry and Draco in confusion. Draco thrust the letter into her hands, ignoring the tingle in his fingers as they brushed across hers.

"Shacklebolt demanded I deliver this to you." Hermione ignored them, ripping open the letter. She gasped, closing her eyes.

"Mione?" Harry plucked the parchment from between her rigid fingers. Draco stood just behind him, peering over his shoulder.

"You're going to have to bloody explain this, Granger." Hermione nodded, backing into the chair behind her, taking deep cleansing breaths.

"I owe Dumbledore." Draco pulled the door closed behind him, deciding they needed privacy for such revelations.

"Owe him what? All the letter says is 'Remember'." Harry kneeled in front of her, his hands resting lightly on her knees. She took the parchment back from him, holding it tightly.

"My parents aren't dead, Harry. They're in Australia. I left them there. They're so bloody happy now. Dumbledore knew Voldemort and his Death Eaters were going to come after me. Especially after we decided to hunt horcruxes. Dumbledore said it was only a matter of time. He suggested I send them away, for safety. You remember Gilderoy Lockhart. He was quite accomplished in memory charms. Dumbledore promised he would teach me a particularly complicated memory charm so that when the war was over, I could retrieve them. He would only ask one favour. A favour I would not be allowed to deny him. I agreed of course, they're my parents. I didn't want them to die in the midst of a wizarding war. Dumbledore and Shacklebolt were present. Dumbledore wrote down the terms, we signed and Shacklebolt witnessed it. Dumbledore said it would be best for Shacklebolt to hold onto our little magical contract in the event something happened to him. It was Charmed to only say 'Remember'. If it fell into the wrong hands, no one would know what they were holding..."

"Sort of like the Marauder's Map." Harry nodded.

"Now what? Shacklebolt is holding you to it?" Draco interjected, trying to understand exactly what Hermione was saying.

"Yes and no. It's magic. I caught bits and parts of their conversation before they called me in. Dumbledore and Shacklebolt were speaking about the survival of the wizarding war. It didn't matter who won or lost, in the end, the wizarding world was going to be decimated. They were discussing the potential for a Marriage Law. I didn't understand the power I was giving them then. I understand it now of course, but it's too late." Hermione drew a shaky breath, refusing to look in Draco's direction. He disliked the unexpected pang of hurt.

"You can read the letter, can't you? I can only see 'Remember' but you know exactly what it says don't you?" Hermione was thankful that Harry Potter was still as intuitive as he'd always been. She nodded slowly, her breath hitching.

"What does it say?" Hermione squeezed her eyes tight, the parchment shaking between her fingers as she held it out, not to Harry but to Draco. Draco looked to Harry for confirmation, but Harry only shrugged. With tentative fingers, he took the parchment in his hands, feeling the hum of magic course through it. He gasped as the words appeared, covering the page.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think..I didn't think it would ever come to this. I was sure. I was young and stupid and..."

"You were saving your parents Hermione. If I could have saved mine, I would have done the same thing. Malfoy?" Harry's comforting words were drowned out by Draco Malfoy's laughter.  
His head was thrown back while he shook the singular sheet of parchment, laughing. Harry had never heard him laugh before and found it a bit terrifying.

"I gave my mother, my sneaky, manipulative, very Slytherin mother, complete control of my future bride in exchange for my inheritance and the freedom to reside wherever the fuck I wished to live. She signed this, you realise this Granger? It never would have been binding without her signature as well."

"WILL SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?" Harry wanted to shake both of them. He was completely infuriated. It wasn't often he wasn't privy to the inner workings of Hermione Granger's mind. He decided he most definitely did not enjoy being on the outside looking in.

"Harry..."

"Oi. Potter. Stori gets her wish. Excuse me, my parents are in the building. I need to hex them. Immediately. Granger, we'll speak later. Dinner?" Hermione nodded, expecting Draco Malfoy's fury, not his laughter. Draco swept from the room quickly, his clipped steps fading down the corridor.

"Mione? C'mon then. Let's go back to my office and you can explain.."

"Oh Harry, there's nothing to explain. Apparently, I'm marrying Draco Malfoy."

* * *

Kingsley Shacklebolt grit his teeth while entering the confined space holding the Malfoys. If he was being honest with himself, he never expected the Wizengamot to agree to the passage of such a law. He believed it to be abominable if he was being honest with himself.

He had never imagined a late night rendezvous with Albus Dumbledore and Hermione Granger would result in unlikely pairings for the continuation of the wizarding world. He had only agreed to such irrevocable binding magic for the sake of the young Gryffindor's parents. She was quite desperate to keep them safe. He should have known better. The twinkling in Dumbledore's eyes should have been the clue which had him refusing. Part of him wondered if that was Dumbledore's plan all along.

Dumbledore had always had a soft spot for Hermione Granger. He had believed in the inner goodness of Draco Malfoy when no one else believed it to exist. Shacklebolt rolled his eyes with chagrin, realising Dumbledore was absolutely correct in his assessment of the young Malfoy. Now, to add more madness, Narcissa Malfoy had become involved, which was still quite confusing as far as he was concerned.

How on earth did her magical signature wind up on their contract? Had Dumbledore scurried away in the dead of night and present his case? How had he convinced the matriarch of the Malfoy family to acquiesce to his demand of adding a Muggle-born witch to their pure-blood lines? It was enough to drive any wizard toward a padded room in St Mungos, if they even had such a thing. Shacklebolt made a mental note to ask about such things, in the event everything backfired and he found himself on the wrong end of an Inquisitorial Squad.

"Mrs Malfoy, lovely to see you." Kingsley lied, forcing a grimace into a smile. He blotted the light sheen of sweat across his chocolate brow.

"Oh, Kingsley, we're all adults here." Kingsley gulped. He gestured toward the small pile of parchment dangling on the edge of the desk.

"Where is my son?" Lucius spat, refusing the offered chair with a snarl of derision.

"He should arrive momentarily. Unless of course, Ms Granger has hexed him into oblivion." The Minister for Magic ignored Lucius Malfoy's posturing, used to his antics.

"That would certainly save us a bit of trouble, wouldn't it?" Lucius smirked, earning him a warning glare from his wife and a snort from Shacklebolt.

"I'm quite certain your wife begs to differ. Ms Granger is quite an accomplished witch. Even you Lucius would not be able to refute such facts.." The pounding on the thick door interrupted him succinctly.

"Enter." Kingsley closed his eyes, prepared for a barrage of angry questions from the tall pale wizard bursting through the door. He was pleasantly surprised to see the wizard's anger directed toward his mother instead. Shacklebolt inspected the yellow paisley design on his robes, ignoring the barely concealed air of rage.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Don't deny it, Mother. This bloody reeks of your meddling." Draco Malfoy shook his wand directly in his mother's face, knowing she detested it.  
Narcissa had always chided him for his manners, yet this time was an exception. Her dark blue eyes narrowed significantly, as her son bellowed. She plucked invisible threads from her dark blue robes before sinking into a rigid wooden chair.

"I'm simply exercising the power you bequeathed to me. At the time you were more than willing to, what was it you said? Oh yes, sign away your very soul for the same rights every witch and wizard has. That was it, wasn't it? Draco, were they not given to you? I have not hounded you to return to the Manor, nor have I sent you copious amounts of owls forcing introductions to witches which would be nothing other than a passing fancy. So, what happens to be the problem?" Narcissa smiled serenely, observing her son's cheeks flush lightly, in anger and embarrassment if she were to guess.

"Father.." Lucius laughed at his son's antics.

"Draco, my boy, you failed to consult me prior to allowing your mother these liberties. What is it they say? Those Muggles...oh yes, you've made your bed, now lie in it." Lucius arched a dark blonde eyebrow at his son as he settled beside his wife.

"I'm fucking screwed." Shacklebolt cleared his throat noisily, looking behind Draco. Draco spun to see a very angry Gryffindor Princess clutching the edges of the letter he'd delivered.

"You unbelievable bastard. Always thinking about yourself, aren't you bloody wanker. Yes, _you're_ screwed. Never mind the unfortunate witch who's apparently going to be tied to you for the rest of her miserable life, but it's all about you isn't it Malfoy? You're still a conceited, arrogant, pompous..." Her dark brown eyes flicked toward Narcissa and Lucius, who were engaged in a fevered conversation in whispers.

"Enough with the synonyms Granger.." Draco Malfoy was accustomed to Hermione's outbursts. He leaned across the small space and snatched the brandished wand from her nimble fingers.

"I hate you!" Hermione shouted before turning on her heel to escape the stifling room. She was halfway down the corridor before Draco caught her.

"Granger. Granger. Stop hitting me and listen, would you?" Hermione kicked her legs, her arms swinging toward his face before she found herself tumbling into an empty office. She righted herself quickly, angry tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

"He took away my choices! Fucking Marriage Law? Ridiculous!" Draco closed the door, leaning against it, allowing Hermione to rage. He was mildly surprised by her language, but he supposed the circumstances depicted the necessity.

"Oh sure, poor Hermione Granger. No one will ever love such a bloody know-it-all. She's terribly plain, haven't you heard? Hasn't a bloody lick of sexuality. I'm surprised Ron Weasley dated her, he could do so much better. She's nothing. She's not capable of holding a conversation that doesn't revolve around books. Can you believe she works at the Ministry? Would have thought the library would be better suited for her. She doesn't need anyone. Does she even have friends? Well, there's Harry Potter, but he's only friends with her because he feels sorry for her. You remember how absolutely horrid she was in Hogwarts. She's only a Mudblood, not worthy of any wizard. The sooner she faces that..."

"Granger. Stop it." Draco had never heard her rail against herself before and he never wanted to again. It made him wonder who had done this to her. She was the strongest witch he'd ever known, but apparently even the mighty crumble.

"Why? Why should I? I'm sure you've heard it all, Malfoy. I'm sure you've said it as well. I should have said yes to Ron. I'd be bloody miserable, but it's better than taking you down with me." Hermione's shoulders sagged, her hands covering her face as the sobs wracked through her.  
Before he could stop himself, Draco crossed the worn carpet and gathered her into his arms. It wasn't something they had done before, but he knew in that moment she needed someone. Hermione melted against him, her fingernails digging into his forearms, her curls brushing against his chin.

In that moment, Draco Malfoy decided perhaps holding a witch was not as revolting as he once believed. He had shagged his fair share of witches, more than his fair share, yet he had never held a woman. Never allowed them to trap him in their magically weaved web of seduction. He was smart enough to realise the sort of witches he attracted were only interested in his name and his riches. They were perfectly suit for his passing fancy, but anything more than that, made him shudder in revulsion. He took them home, impressed them with his charm, shagged them senseless and always made sure they went home before morning.

Draco curved his arms around her back, pressing slightly. He felt uncomfortable feeling the curves of her body against him. He had never given actual thought to the feel of Hermione Granger's body and now wasn't the time to start.

"C'mon Granger. You're making me soggy. It'll be alright." He tried to sound aloof, but it was the last thing he was feeling.

"Right. Sorry. Of course. I shouldn't...I'll just.."

"Granger. Shut up. Did anyone ever tell you, you talk too much? And now you're thinking. You always chew your lip to shreds when you're thinking or nervous. Ridiculous."

"Why aren't you angry?" Hermione pushed away from his hard chest, realising how close they were. She grabbed her unruly curls and tied them into a messy bun at the nape of her neck.

"Why would I be angry?" Draco's nose crinkled as the scent of musty books wafted through the air. He wondered if her scent was always reminiscent of a graveyard for books and shuddered slightly.

"Oh please, Malfoy. Did you even read the bloody thing? I'm sure being strapped with a Mudblood bride is going to absolutely thrill your multiple companions."

"Granger. I'll have you know I highly dislike derogatory terms. I will not have my future wife refer to herself in such a fashion. It's completely unbecoming. I expected better of you frankly." Draco sniffed, his aristocratic nose held loftily in the air.

"As if you've never spoken such words?!" Hermione's hands clenched into fists of rage. If they weren't down the corridor from the Minister for Magic, she would have punched him, repeatedly, in the face.  
"My darling Granger, those times are long since passed. Surely you cannot hold childish prejudices against me. One would think Hermione Granger, war heroine was incapable of forgiveness."

"You're being difficult on purpose. You wouldn't be attempting to goad me if you had read the document."

"I read enough. I don't understand why you're so determined to be upset about this. It's obvious there's nothing we can do about it. The joys of magic, I suppose. Nothing really needs to change. We get married and go about with our lives." He shrugged, not seeing the problem.

He would of course have to inform Nadia. She was becoming a bit too attached for his taste. Draco found himself relishing the idea of breaking the news of his impending marriage to the Russian model. He knew she had plenty of her own money, but there was something about her he found off putting. Perhaps it was the simple fact; his father had taken to gushing about her. Of course Lucius would consider Nadia the perfect Malfoy bride.

"You're an idiot. I never would have suspected. Well, that's not entirely true, I had an inkling such idiocy had taken up residence somewhere around third year, but now I'm absolutely sure. However did you manage? It must have been difficult to find minions below your intellect. It truly is wonderful Slytherin was able to accommodate you..."

"Granger. You're rambling and being quite rude as well. Is there a point to this?" Hermione growled, giving Draco a shove. She smiled in facetious satisfaction, as he stumbled into the corner of wayward desk. She slammed the contract into his chest and spun across the room.

"Go about with our lives? How are we supposed to manage that Malfoy? We have to live together. We have to bloody consummate our marriage. We have to procreate. Oh, are you bloody paying attention now? If we violate the terms? ANY of the terms? Our bloody wands get snapped. You'd think it wouldn't matter to me so much, considering I'm only a Muggle-born witch but I haven't anyone outside of the wizarding community. I suppose I could move to Australia. I wouldn't be able to reverse the Memory Charm on my parents, but I suppose I could be friends with them. That's better than nothing. Oh. I'd miss Harry. Ron wouldn't be that big a loss, he's such a git. Oh my gods, Luna, Ginny, Stori. This is bloody miserable." Hermione backed into the wall, disregarding the peeling wallpaper and slid to the floor. She bent her knees and flopped her head across her arms.

Draco had tuned out most of her ranting while perusing the document. He skipped most of the legal jargon in favour of finding a way to skirt around the regulations. He suddenly felt weak in the knees. The very idea of his wand being snapped, forced to live as a bloody Muggle was enough for all the blood to drain from his face.

"We're the bloody face of the Marriage Law? Ridiculous." Draco mumbled to himself, while Hermione sniffed into her hair.

"Wait until you read..."

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"There it is.." Hermione sighed and lifted her head. She wondered what Dumbledore was thinking drafting such an iron clad contract. She was the first to admit, when it came to her old Headmaster, she didn't understand most of his reasonings. In what world would Albus Dumbledore, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Narcissa Malfoy agree on the binding of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, for life?  
"It's for bloody life. I can't believe it. I've never come across such a thing. Even my parent's contract had a clause they could enact after the passing of five years and an heir. Why the fuck did you sign this Granger? I thought you were smarter than this." Draco shook the parchment, instantly feeling a bit guilty for the abject misery etched across her face.

"It was blank. I-I mean, it had all those stipulations, but the name of the intended was left blank. I assumed it was because Dumbledore wanted to choose him at a later time or...I honestly don't know. I was desperate. You have to understand that, Malfoy. You were a bloody Death Eater charged with murdering Dumbledore for the sake of your mother. You would have done anything for her, I understand that. Perhaps that's why I could bloody forgive you much easier than Harry or anyone else for that matter. I understand the bloody desperation that makes one choose a completely illogical path for the sake of their loved ones." Draco found his mouth opening and closing a few times before he gave up.  
She was right. As much as he hated to admit it, the little Gryffindor Princess was right. He would have done anything for his mother. He couldn't fault Hermione for choosing her loved ones.

"Alright, Granger. Come along then. There's obviously nothing we can do about it. Might as well go back to Shacklebolt and suss out the details. We'll get..married.." Hermione ignored the way Draco choked on the word. She allowed him to pull her to her feet and wipe the tears from her cheeks.

"We're sort of friends. It shouldn't be too difficult. We'll produce an heir and well, perhaps after that we'll be able to find some sort of happiness with other people. We won't be able to marry them of course but, Granger, stop shaking your head. What's the problem now?" Hermione pushed passed him and snatched the discarded piece of parchment from the threadbare carpet.

"Here. Right here." Hermione poked the bottom of the page with a shaking finger. Draco peered at the tiny handwriting, recognising his mother's elegant scrawl.

"Oh, of course. My bloody mother would do that to me."

"Yes, Malfoy, it's all about you. Didn't bother to consider me at all, did you? Maybe there's someone I've been seeing. Obviously, I'd have to break it off, no question. I never thought Dumbledore would do this..."

"Did you read this? This is my mother's handiwork. 'In the event of unintentional relations, i.e. inebriation, each party will submit to questioning by Veritaserum.' She disgusts me.."

"I-I'm sorry. I never intended..I didn't think.."

"Stop apologising. Whatever are you apologising for? You didn't write this. You were saving your parents, even a right bastard like me can understand that." Draco sighed, raking his fingers through his unruly hair.

"I'm sorry you're stuck with the likes of me." Draco watched Hermione fold in herself, as if she were trying to make herself disappear. He was absolutely furious, but not with Hermione. It wasn't her fault, not really. Desperate times called for desperate measures. Even if she had known Dumbledore's intentions, he knew she would have signed it anyway. There aren't limits when it comes to your loved ones.

"Well, someone's obviously done quite a number on you Granger. You must tell me all about it over dinner. Let's reschedule the bloody meeting. Theo's throwing me a half-birthday costume party tomorrow. Should be bloody delightful. You'll come with me." Draco held out his hand, waiting for her to accept it. Her fingers were surprisingly cold as they slid across his palm.

"That's probably not the best idea."

"Rescheduling the meeting or coming to my party?" He tugged her toward the door lightly.

"Both? Uhm, well, it's going to come out eventually, might as well be now. I broke things off with Ron over a year ago. I'm sure you already know that, but uhm, I've been..seeing Theo." Draco squeezed her hand lightly, resisting the urge to laugh at the obvious tension in her stance.

"I've been seeing a Russian model. She's a bit dim, but pleasant I suppose. I'll send her an owl and call the whole thing off. Theo won't pose a problem. He usually has a few girls on the hook at a time and..shit, I'm sorry Granger, I didn't mean.."

"It's fine Malfoy. I didn't expect exclusivity." Hermione opened the door and peaked into the corridor, prepared to step out when Draco yanked her hand.

"Why not?" Hermione frowned at his curiousness.

They had been working together for years and had never really ventured into discussions of their private lives. Their banter drove Harry batty, which was part of the reason they continued such antics. Hermione had simply considered it a work relationship. There were plenty of witches and wizards she had an amicable relationship with at work, but once the work day was over or their jobs changed, so was their relationship.

"How long would it take you, Malfoy, to venture on toward greener pastures when the witch you're dating never allows anything beyond a simple snog?" Draco pretended to contemplate the question, knowing he'd never see the imaginary more than two or three times.

"I suppose, I'd take her out a few times..alright fine, I'd take her out twice and…wait. Are you saying you've never? You've dated a fair amount of blokes. Krum, Weasley, Wood, that other Weasley and apparently Nott and you've never?"

"Ten points for Slytherin." Hermione curled her bottom lip between her teeth, waiting for the backlash, which never came.

"Well now I'm bloody curious! Fancy to tell me why?"

"Malfoy," Hermione sighed dramatically, "Meeting. Drinks. Dinner. Party. By the end of the night, you'll wish you never asked me anything at all."

"Granger's never shagged. Well, that's going to bloody change." Hermione ignored the mumblings behind her, a deep flush rising to her cheeks as she pulled him into the hall. They walked back toward the receiving office in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

"It's alright, Potter, they're back." Kingsley Shacklebolt sighed in relief, dismissing one of his best Aurors. His eyes narrowed when Harry Potter nodded curtly yet didn't leave. Some semblance of a smile danced on the corners of Narcissa Malfoy's lips as she spied her son's hand entwined with the Muggle-born witches. Lucius snorted in derision, yet to the amazement of all present, he refrained from comment.

"I'll be back in a moment." Draco whispered against Hermione's temple, giving her hand a quick squeeze before releasing it. "Oi, Potter. Can I have a word?"

"What happens now?" Narcissa instantly moved forward to stand beside the forlorn witch. Draco and Harry exited quickly, their nondescript murmurs ignored.

Lucius cast Hermione furtive glances as she willed the tears to dissipate. Even he had to admit she was a pretty girl. She wasn't a particularly flashy witch and her wardrobe definitely needed an upgrade, but he supposed if his son was being forced into matrimony, he could do worse.

"Ms Granger, it's not necessary to uhm, well, I only mean, we could wait until.." Hermione arched her eyebrows at the Minister.

"Honestly Minister. Wait for what exactly? It's clear as day that Malfoy and I are to be the proverbial poster children for your ridiculous Marriage Law, which is incredibly demeaning, but that's neither here nor there. I'm here. Malfoy is here. His parents are here. I can't claim to comprehend exactly what you and Dumbledore were thinking. Perhaps instead of hemming and hawing over things which we cannot change, you can answer my bloody question." Once again, Lucius found himself begrudgingly impressed with Hermione Granger.

"Alright then, Ms. Granger. At this point, I'd take a few moments to explain the fine points, however I believe that will not be necessary. You and Mr Malfoy must pick a wedding date prior to the fourteenth of February. A brilliant member of the Wizengamot determined bloody Valentine's Day to be the best day to snuff out the last bit of happiness in people's lives. We'll be announcing your engagement tomorrow, so be prepared for harassment. I'm sure Mrs Mal-Narcissa can offer you some helpful tips to avoid the paparazzi while traveling. The Marriage Law is not simply for Muggle-born witches and wizards; it also encompasses pure-bloods and half-bloods alike, based on genetic compatibility and intelligence. Regardless of Dumbledore's interference in such matters, you would have been matched together..."

"New Years." Draco burst back into the crowded office with Harry in tow before flopping into the chair beside Hermione. "Is that alright?" He turned to Hermione, his eyes searching hers.

"Eve or Day?" Shacklebolt interjected, his quill flitting across the page.

"Day." Hermione and Draco spoke in unison, surprising each other. Narcissa beamed which Harry found quite disconcerting. Lucius curled his lip at The-Boy-Who-Still-Bloody-Lived earning him a cocky smile in return.

"The ring?"

"It's being taken care of." Draco waved his hand, dismissing the grumble escaping his father.

"Alright then. One last bit of business and you can be on your way. This is a standard magical confidentiality agreement. The Ministry and Wizengamot wish to keep the particulars of this union absolutely confidential. There have been some rumbles in the magical community about the legality of such a Marriage Law. Some of the older wizards believe if the community sees your relationship flourishing it'll help ease the discomfort of others. I'm not saying I agree with such antics, however, I've been overruled. Please, just place your wands on the parchment. Your magical signature will suffice. Also. I would take this evening to wrap up any loose ends, as tomorrow is the dawning of a new age. Again." Shacklebolt shook his head, almost feeling a smidgen of pity for Draco Malfoy. He wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of a wand brandished by Hermione Granger.

"Oi, Malfoy!" Harry rubbed his scar, out of habit in moments of irritation. His glances swung between Narcissa and Lucius, who were engaged in some sort of silent argument and Hermione and Draco who stood off to the side, unsure of the direction they should take. Harry watched Hermione nod and hurry down the corridor toward her office.

"What Potter? I have things to do. The Minister has given me a few days to get everything situated. You're going to help me aren't you? It's not as if I can count on bloody Theo and Blaise is on his honeymoon with that crazy harpy."

"Luna is not a crazy harpy. She's just different. What are you playing at, Malfoy?" Harry yanked on the collar of his green tshirt making a mental note to buy shirts in a larger size.

"Walk with me." Draco shoved Harry toward the Floo Network. "Don't forget, Potter. It's Diagon Alley."

"Fuck you, Malfoy! It was ONE time. I'm never telling you anything ever again, you wanker." Draco smirked, stepping into the Floo.

"You made it. Fantastic. Perhaps you're not completely inept after all." Draco guffawed when Harry gave him a bit of a shove. He found his hands filled with layers of purple taffeta, his ears filled with a soul raping familiar screech.

"Draco! Why I never!"

"Don't lie Parkinson." Draco made a bit of a show brushing the soot and what he considered Pansy germs from his robes while Harry smothered his laughter.

Time had not been a friend to Pansy Parkinson. Harry perused her with a critical eye. Her dark eyes were caked with kohl and while she was always a voluptuous witch, she had curves in places where curves did not belong. Her purple dress, while it might have been adorable on a toddler, did her absolutely no justice. It was too short, too tight and showed entirely too much cleavage. He wondered for a moment, what Draco had ever seen in the witch.

"Draco, darling. It's been too long. Have you missed me? Whatever are you doing here?" She batted her long and probably fake eyelashes, raking her long, curved red nails down Draco's chest, pressing her breasts together.

"Get off, Pansy. I need to see a man about a ring." Draco jerked his head, trying to extricate himself from the clutches of Pansy.

"A ring? Don't tell me, Draco Malfoy is actually planning on tying himself down to one witch?" She laughed, yet it sounded forced and waned quickly.

"That's right, Pansy. Planning on popping the question tonight actually. Potter here is along to help me choose the perfect ring from my vault." Draco's steely grey eyes begged Harry to aid him. The vindictive part of Harry, which was still alive and well, wished to see Malfoy squirm his way out of this particular predicament, yet he erred on the side of caution, considering he had to work with the bloke.

"Come along, Malfoy. We're late as it is. You know how she gets when we're not punctual." Harry rolled his eyes dramatically. He wasn't far from the truth. Hermione Granger was a slave driver when it came to punctuality. Considering Draco Malfoy was always 'fashionably late', Harry wondered what it would be like to be a fly on their wall. He smiled to himself, as he considered using his invisibility cloak to spy upon them.

"Who's the lucky witch, Draco? Does she know about your particular habits?" Pansy snarled.

"Not you. Definitely not you. I'm surprised my cock is still attached after going a round with you in fifth year." Draco shuddered, giving Pansy a wide berth.

"It was more than a round Draco Malfoy! You loved me! Whatever slag you're marrying deserves to know exactly what she's getting!" Pansy Parkinson actually stamped her foot in anger, her silver stiletto marring the cobblestone.

"Oh Pansy, you stupid bint. I was a teenage boy. I loved sex. You were more than willing to service me and the rest of our house if I remember correctly. My future wife is under no delusions and you'd do best not to insult her. She's bloody brilliant." Harry was mildly impressed by Draco's declaration.

"I was a virgin. How dare you." Pansy searched the many ruffles of her purple dress searching for her wand when Draco laughed heartily.

"If you were a virgin than Harry Potter loves to be buggered."

"Hey! Don't drag me into this! Come on, Malfoy." Harry held Draco's arm in a firm grip and dragged him away from the fuming witch.

They ambled through the throngs of witches and wizards bustling along Diagon Alley before they found themselves at Gringotts. Harry managed to hold his tongue until they were standing in the midst of Draco Malfoy's personal vault.

"I don't understand why I'm here."

"You're her best friend. If you don't know what she would prefer, than find me someone who does. Apparently, I only get to do this once and I'd like to present her with something in line with her preferences." Draco flicked his wand toward a nondescript cabinet. The drawers flew open exposing row upon row of glittering jewels.

"Did you go into your vault for Stori?" Harry's interest was piqued. He knew his wife loved him, yet a small part of him wondered how serious her relationship had been with Draco Malfoy.

"Jealous Potter?" Draco sneered before he was able to stop himself. It was those pesky Malfoy genes rearing their ugly head to the surface.

"Curious." Harry shrugged, browsing the selection.

"Astoria Greengrass is the equivalent of your Hermione Granger. I love her to death, really, but the very thought of marrying her, made me a bit.."

"Oh yeah, uhm ill?" Harry tried to imagine being told he'd have to marry his best friend and felt the bile rise in his throat.

"The way you're feeling right now? Exactly. Of course, Stori and I aren't as touchy-feely as you bloody Gryffindor's but we've always been close. She fancied you for so bloody long, I threatened to hex her if she didn't do something about it. Enough this nonsense. Nothing in the bottom drawer. I swear those things are cursed, besides the fact they're hideous." Draco slammed the bottom drawer shut violently.

"Which pieces are your favourite?" Harry inquired, shying away from the obviously gaudy pieces.  
"I'd love to see her in blue. She's always wearing those hideous earth tones. At least that's what she calls them. They all look like dirt." Harry snorted, eyeing a simple pendant.

"Thought you Slytherin's were supposed to worship green and silver?"

"Ugh, please Potter, after what? Six years of green and silver, I don't want to see my wife wearing those colours."

"You're taking this surprisingly well, Malfoy. No, not that one. Looks like a rainbow threw up." Draco groaned tossing the offending ring back into the drawer.

"What else am I supposed to do, Potter? Throw a bit of a fit? Make her feel worse than she already does? What purpose does that serve? In the end, we'll still be married, might as well face it head on." Draco fingered his favourite family heirloom. He had hidden it in the back of a drawer when Pansy was pressing for a commitment. He vaguely remembered his mother telling him it was his grandmother's. They didn't have many pieces of jewelry from the Black family, but this was one of them. If he remembered correctly there was a matching pendant and bracelet as well.

"In the end, Malfoy, all that's going to matter is that you chose it. At least, that's what Astoria told me when I asked her if she was pleased with the ring."

"She was lying. That thing is fucking horrid. I'm kidding, Potter. She bloody cried when she was telling me about it. You gave her your mother's ring didn't you?" Draco inspected the ring, feeling its weight in his hand.

"I love her. Why wouldn't I give her my mother's ring? That's a lovely piece. Doesn't that pendant match it?" Harry picked up the rope chain with a singular sapphire hanging and smiled. It was elegant, yet slightly understated when one took into account it stemmed from a Malfoy. Hermione would adore it.

"There's a bracelet as well. They were my grandmother's. She was a Black by marriage. Mother always says Grandmum Dru broke the mold by naming her after a flower. She was a fiery witch, at least that's what Mother always said. She never agreed with burning Andromeda and Sirius off the family tapestry." Harry felt a bit strange, standing in Draco's personal vault, listening to him speak of his family. He had never really thought of them as close friends, but it seemed as though the tides were about to change.

"It's a lovely ring, really." Harry knew he didn't know much when it came to jewelry, but it really was a beautiful setting. He only knew it was called a setting because Astoria drilled it into him.

"Platinum. Center cut blue sapphire with diamond accents. I think it's called a raised setting? I don't bloody know. There's magic in this ring, I can feel it. It's simple considering all the other jewels, but it's the simplicity which makes it bloody gorgeous. Help me find the bracelet would you? There's got to be a box around here somewhere."

"Stori was right, wasn't she? You fancy Hermione Granger."

"Potter.." Draco paused, his hands trembling slightly, "don't tell her alright?"


	2. The Date

**AN: The reception of this fic is bloody staggering. You guys totally make me write faster...which I suppose works out really well for you. ;)**

**Warning: This chapter contains Mature Content. - I'm not a mark it for the 'skippers' sort of writer so if mature content bothers you...move along I suppose. **

* * *

Chapter 2 - The Date

"I'm going to be sick."

"Hermione, stop being so bloody dramatic. It's just a date. You've been out with Theo before. Why is this time so different? No, not that, it's awful." Ginny's nose wrinkled in distaste. Hermione tossed the shapeless black garment onto the growing pile on her bed.

"It's not with Theo."

"Oh please tell me you haven't taken back my brother." Ginny groaned in disgust, scouring Hermione's dreadfully plain wardrobe.

"Ginny. That's just cruel."

"So are these clothes. No wonder you haven't managed to snag a man. Ridiculous. We need to go shopping." Ginny flounced onto Hermione's bed, eyeing her curiously. "Who is he, then?"

"I haven't time to go shopping."

"You always say that. We can transfigure something for tonight, but we're definitely shopping this weekend. If he makes you this nervous, perhaps it'll last. Come on then, give me your vision. That's why I'm here isn't it? Don't think I'm going to let you get away with not telling me all about your mystery man, Hermione Granger." Ginny ripped off her Puddlemore United sweatshirt in favour of a slinky black dress she discovered in the deep recesses of Hermione's closet.

"Remember those old movies I've made you watch with me?" Hermione allowed Ginny to manipulate her difficult curls. She knew it was useless to try and dissuade the young witch. Ginny was determined to tame Hermione's unruly curls if it was the last thing she did.

"Of course. I see now. Hmm, how are you leaning? Roman Holiday or Breakfast at Tiffany's? Is this a first date? I'm assuming drink and dinner. If that's the case, Roman Holiday is definitely out, that's more for picnics and riding brooms. What colour then?" Ginny twisted Hermione's hair, piling it on top of her head, and frowning at wayward curls.

"Blue! Definitely blue! This is going to be so much fun!" Hermione groaned as Astoria Potter bounded into her bedroom.

"Oi! Stori! Do you know about her mystery date?" Ginny smiled at the bouncing blonde.

It was impossible to hate Astoria. She positively oozed happiness. She was almost the polar opposite of her older half-sister Daphne. How Astoria Greengrass wound up in Slytherin was anyone's guess. She loved everyone regardless of blood status, which made her that much more endearing.

"It's Draco!" Astoria squealed, tossing an armload of garment bags onto the bed. Ginny gasped, smacking Hermione's arm.  
"I can't bloody believe it! When were you going to tell me?! How long has this been going on?"

"Apparently, they've been seeing each other in secret for months! Can you believe it? I can't. However did they manage to hide it so well?" Hermione covered her face in horror, yet silently thanking Harry for keeping their secret. As much as she loved Harry, he was a terrible gossip and Astoria didn't help matters in the least.

"What of Theo?" Ginny couldn't resist. While she'd never admitted it to anyone, let alone her best friend, a small piece of her was a bit jealous. She'd always admired the tall, lean and intelligent Slytherin.

"Theo was just doing a service for Draco. Harry, Draco and Theo floo'd over after work. I was eavesdropping a bit; you know I can't help myself. Draco was thanking Theo for keeping an eye on his girl. Theo was being perfectly Theo and said the pleasure was his, but he had his eye on a particularly fiery redhead." Astoria's blonde curls bounced while she giggled, unzipping the garment bags while charming them to hang before Hermione.

"Harry caught me and sent me here. We need to get busy. Draco's taking her to Mio Luna. I told Blaise they should name their restaurant something else, but he insisted. I don't bloody understand it, but Blaise and Luna have arranged a table for two at 7."

"Mio Luna? I've been dying to go there." Ginny groaned, vetoing an emerald green mermaid gown with a snort.

"I'll mention it to Theo." Astoria winked. "Mione, we've only an hour! Get up, choose a dress."

"She wants to channel her inner Audrey Hepburn tonight. She's bloody nervous. Look at her. Her hands are shaking and that flush, my word. I've never seen her in such a state." Hermione stared into the nothingness, blocking out all the chattering around her. She was having difficulty seeing herself at the newest posh restaurant with Draco Malfoy.

"She needs a calming draught. Check the washroom." Astoria rifled through the various drawers and cabinets until returning with a small vial. Ginny propped Hermione against her arm, while Astoria poured the potion down her throat.

"She's really nervous."

"I'm right here. Stop it." Hermione shook herself free from Ginny's embrace to stumble into the washroom. She splashed cold water on her face, irritated by the splotchiness of her face. She took a few cleansing breaths before allowing her friends to alter her entire appearance.

"He won't be able to keep his hands off you."

"This is better than the Yule Ball."

"She needs a choker."

"Not that, the pearls."

"Do you think the gloves are too much?"

"It's not bloody Breakfast at Tiffany's without the gloves."

"Who the fuck is Tiffany and why does she need breakfast?!"

"Ask Harry, Stori."

Hermione studied her reflection, barely recognising herself. It was modest, which she appreciated. She'd always hated women who felt the need to display so much of their skin it bordered on pornographic. This dress, however, hugged her curves, alluding to her womanly wiles without making her uncomfortable.  
Her curls were miraculously tamed and piled onto her head. Hermione wondered how Ginny had managed to smooth out the familiar frizz which had always surrounded her face. Stori had secured the hair with magic and an antique filigree clasp.

"Aunt Cissa instructed me to give this to you." Stori whispered in Hermione's ear while Ginny rummaged in the closet for shoes.

"I expect a full bloody report afterwards. If you make it home." Ginny wiggled her eyebrows while licking her upper lip suggestively.

"Ginevra Weasley! Contain yourself!" Hermione felt her cheeks heat while Ginny thrusted her pelvis.

"Is she always like this?" Stori's brown eyes nearly bulged out of her head.

"Worse. You're lucky. Ask Harry about Ginny's wanton evening with the Gryffindor lion.."

"WE SWORE TO NEVER SPEAK OF IT!" Hermione laughed lightly slipping her feet into the peep toe silver pumps.

"Where's the fun in that?" Before Ginny's temper could explode, they were interrupted by a light knock to the door of Hermione's modest flat.

Hermione was thankful for the gloves. She had originally believed they were over the top, but they hid the clamminess of her palms. She allowed Stori to spritz her with her dwindling bottle of french perfume. She couldn't pronounce it, but it was one of the few mementos of her parents to still exist. Hermione adored the way the floral scents mingled with her favourite herbs, creating a delicious concoction.  
It reminded her of every morning at Hogwarts, always managing to spray it into her hair before rushing off to class. It had been years since she'd received a new bottle. It made her miss her parents terribly, but Hermione didn't have time for such things.

"It's almost empty.." Stori sighed, studying the thick glass.

"I know, it's the last one. I never knew where she purchased it. I can't ask her.." Hermione sighed, fingering the light blue bottle before placing it back in her washroom cabinet.

"Your mum?" Stori gripped Hermione's hand, giving it a squeeze. She knew it was simply another thing to discuss with her good friend Draco Malfoy.

No witch should be this incredibly sad from a simple scent. Astoria knew it was a special creation. Before she had known it was irreplaceable to her friend, she had spritzed it onto her wrist. The scent had been completely different to her, reminding her of fresh cut grass and the smell of rain on pavement.

"He's here and a bit nervous, if I do say so myself. Looks bloody smashing. I wouldn't mind taking a bite out of.." Ginny poked her head into the bedroom.

"Ginny!" Stori hissed, pulling Hermione from the wreckage of her bedroom.

"What?! It's true!"

"You're as bad as Ron with food."

"YOU TAKE THAT BACK!"

"Ginny, if you calm yourself, I'll invite you to our place for dinner. Theo will be there..." Stori pleaded, trying to maneuver Hermione into her front room. Ginny smoothed the creases in her slinky black dress and nodded curtly. With a final shove from Stori, Hermione found herself stumbling into her living room.

"Why did I listen to you? A bloody suit. If this fails, I'm hexing you." Draco hastily pressed a button on his cell phone and shoved it into the inside pocket of his double breasted blazer, upon spying Hermione's less than graceful entrance.

He looked as nervous as she felt. Hermione knew it would be easy to add to his anxiety yet decided to take a bit of pity on him. It was a delicate situation for them both.

"Harry?" Hermione asked, nodding toward his pocket. Draco Malfoy's mouth hung slightly agape taking in the woman before him.

He'd worked with Harry and Hermione for years, but he'd never seen her in a true social situation. The Ministry functions were simply a formality and she had never looked like this. He had a sneaking suspicion Hermione Granger had the curves of a woman, based on their embrace that afternoon, but to actually see a garment clinging to them was astonishing.

Draco was drawn out of his haze by the snickering of a redheaded witch he vaguely recognised and Stori. The light ringing of bells made him frown. Stori sighed and pulled her cell phone out of her robes.

"What? I'm busy! No. I'm not spying..oh fine! I'm coming. I'm bringing Ginny with me. Yes, fine." Stori shoved the phone back into her robes and grabbed Ginny's hand.

"Meeo-Miiio, Harry says..." Stori gasped suddenly, her eyes narrowing while Draco pointedly ignored her searching gaze.

"Stori?"

"Oh yes, Harry says I'm to come home. Something about privacy, which is ridiculous really. I wish I never let him talk me into the bloody Muggle celly phone. Kisses!" Astoria blew them air kisses before stepping into the Floo with a sheepish Ginny.

They stood in the apparent silence for a few moments, each of them lost in their thoughts.  
"Shall we go then?" Draco offered his arm, as if he'd done it hundreds of time. Which, now that Hermione considered it, he probably had and she wasn't sure how that made her feel.

* * *

Hermione gazed at the long line of patrons outside the new restaurant, wondering how they would feel to see Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy saunter to the front to be seated.

"Have you been here before?" He held the door open for her, his hand on the small of her back.

"N-no. I've been meaning to, but I.." Hermione had helped Blaise and Luna pick the location and even helped Blaise talk Luna out of her more abstract ideas. It was an intimate sort of dining experience. She had never felt comfortable bringing a date to an establishment that seemed to cater to lovers.

"I came to the opening. It was...different. Didn't stay long or anything, but Blaise insisted on reserving a table for us this evening. I couldn't say no. We don't have to stay if you're uncomfortable.." Draco nodded to the maitre'd, his hand slipping into Hermione's while they were led to a table against the back wall.

Hermione felt her nerves building to an almost unbearable crescendo when she spied their table. It seemed to be a small half moon booth. Intimate seating for two and if Hermione wasn't mistaken, it seemed to be on a platform.

"This was obviously Luna's idea. I tried to talk her out of it." Hermione sighed and slid into the booth.

The armrest on her left side rose with a click, succinctly locking her in place. Draco frowned, yet sat beside her to find he was also locked in place. Their thighs touched, but there wasn't room to move away from each other.

"What madness is this?" Draco whispered, finding it impossible to be comfortable. There wasn't a place to put his arm.

"If I had to guess, the platform revolves. Luna thought it would be fabulous to have the tables spin, but Blaise said he didn't want his patrons vomiting their dinners." Hermione hid behind the large menu, ignoring the blatant stares from unfamiliar witches.

"I'm going to put my arm around you because I haven't a place to put it. I'm sure that was her aim as well."

"There's only one menu as well."

"Fantastic." Draco found himself rolling his eyes, wondering where he'd picked up such a habit to spy Hermione doing the same.

"Sorry."

"It's not your bloody fault. Oh lovely, pictures as well." Hermione ignored the flashes, intent on studying her dining choices. Draco draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders, his fingers toying with an escaped curl near her earlobe.

"Why do you do that?" Hermione was afraid to look at him, he was entirely too close for comfort.

"I like it." He found himself smiling at the gooseflesh which rose across her skin. He wondered if it was his proximity or the gentle strokes of his fingers along the side of her neck. He adjusted the modest string of pearls around her neck, his thumb dipping beneath the clasp.

"You don't have to lie, Malfoy. I'm well aware my hair is not my best feature." Hermione's eyes searched the restaurant, wondering if anyone was going to take their order when platters of food were placed on the table by none other than Blaise Zabini.

"Who broke you, Granger?" Hermione shivered as his lips grazed her ear.

"Malfoy! About bloody time you wandered into our fine establishment. Luna wanted to surprise you with some of her specialties, but mate, stay away from them. Gods know I love her, but her dishes are a bit terrifying." Hermione laughed as the large, dark skinned Italian stole glances over his shoulder.

"Your secret is safe with me, Blaise."

"Holy shit. Granger? Is that you? Malfoy, you didn't tell me Granger was such a fuckin' hottie." Blaise leered, winking suggestively. Hermione knew it was all in harmless fun, yet Draco stiffened beside her, drawing her against him.

"Don't make me regret coming, Blaise. Where's Luna?" Hermione casually drew the conversation back to Luna. Draco felt as if they had done this numerous times before, which made him feel a bit unsettled. Draco knew he was being irrational, but he didn't appreciate his best mate making eyes at the woman he was marrying.

"Oi. Blaise." Blaise nodded slowly, perusing his mate. Hermione glanced between the two, realising they were having one of their famous silent conversations.

"Well, I'm going to find my wife. Enjoy the rest of your evening." With an exaggerated bow, Blaise bustled through the tables to greet new arrivals.

"What was that about?" Hermione turned toward Draco, her nose brushing his cheek.

Draco was hyperaware of their proximity. Her shoulder overlapped his, her right hand resting lightly on his thigh, gloves long removed, when her breath graced his jaw, he tensed. Inwardly he cursed Harry Potter and his bloody wife for planting ideas in his head in the first place. He had never really noticed Hermione before. It wasn't exactly true, if at all, yet Draco had worked hard to convince himself she was simply another Ministry worker, doing whatever it was she did.

Sure, he had toyed with the idea of taking her out and about, if only to get her out of his system. Astoria had given him an unforgettable tongue lashing for even suggesting such a thing.

_"She is not a toy, Draco Malfoy. She's been through hell and back. You're bloody lucky she doesn't regularly hex you. You were quite the little shit in Hogwarts and she forgave you. You didn't even ask her too and she did! She defends you, which is no easy feat. You'd be lucky to find a woman half as good as Hermione Granger. You will not use her like one of your slags. You have an itch? That's why the Pansy Parkinsons in the world exist. Hermione is beautiful, inside and out. Just because you can't see beyond the need to inflate your ridiculously large ego, doesn't mean she can't see you for exactly who you are. A petulant, selfish, scared and terribly vulnerable child. In fact, she's bloody said so. Therefore, if you think you can take her about, show her a good time and expect her to drop her knickers, you think again. It would destroy her. I watched Ron destroy her. She's a bloody shadow of the person she used to be. Grow up, Malfoy. Either you recognise her as the beautiful woman she is or you fuck right off."_

"Malfoy? Are you alright?" Hermione brushed his cheek with her palm, drawing him out of his haze. He shook his head slightly, causing his hair to fall onto his forehead.

"How is it possible I didn't notice?" He took in the wide brown eyes, lightly dusted with shimmer, the full pink lips slightly parted and the pink hue of her cheeks before deciding Stori was absolutely correct. Hermione Granger is absolutely beautiful and she didn't have a bloody clue.

"Notice what? I.." Hermione found her words abruptly cut off by Draco Malfoy's lips against hers. He shifted in the booth, shielding her from the onslaught of flashes and murmurs. Her head fell back onto his arm, his hand gently turning her face into him.

They discovered their booth slowly turning away from the patrons and reporters until they faced the wall. Neither of them noticed the shimmer of magic on the previously blank wall as it morphed into a splendid scene of a crackling fire.

Hermione was overwhelmed. She'd never been kissed in such a public venue before. She'd never been kissed the way Draco Malfoy was currently kissing her. It wasn't a wet, sloppy kiss reminiscent of Ron. It wasn't a harsh, teeth smashing kiss, reminiscent of Viktor. It wasn't even the chaste, ridiculously sweet kisses which reminded her of Oliver Wood or the hesitant, practically matronly kisses of Theo Nott. It wasn't anything she had ever experienced.

Draco's lips were so soft, yet tentative, part of her was wondering if she was imagining their very presence. She could feel his hand cupping the side of her face, his thumb applying light pressure to the jaw line in front of her ear, before it slid down the side of her body to grip her hip.

It took a moment to respond to the gentle pressure as he kissed the corner of her mouth, her jaw and even her cheeks. Draco returned to her lips as her eyes fluttered closed. When she sighed into him, her body sagging slightly, he nipped her bottom lip, his tongue flicking forward. Hermione almost laughed at the light rumble emanating from his chest upon gaining entrance. She gripped his forearm, wondering if her inexperience was rearing its ugly head.

Ron was always thrusting it in her face. He constantly complained of her unwillingness to sleep with him. She knew if Ron Weasley had evoked half the things she was currently feeling, she would have succumbed to his bumbling attempts. For a moment, Hermione allowed herself wonder what it would feel like to writhe beneath a man, this particular man. She contemplated the sensations, wondering if he would find himself filled with disgust by the scars marring her body. She wondered if he would scoff and demean her for her lack of knowledge. Hermione Granger had always detested the idea of failure in anything.

"I've lost you." Draco pecked her lips a few times in quick succession. He pulled away slightly, tapping her forehead with a fingertip.

Draco took in her swollen lips, heaving chest and even the escaped tendrils in awe. He wondered who on earth had been able to let her go. It was obvious she was inexperienced but that simply added to her charm. He liked the idea of being her first and her last. He reveled in the idea of being the one to teach her the ins and outs of lovemaking. He wondered what she would look like as she came undone in his arms, in his bed.

"I'm sorry. Sometimes I have a tendency to...over think." Hermione studied the unfamiliar plates of food in front of them, afraid to look at the man studying her profile.

"Sometimes?" Draco teased, winding a curl around his finger, giving it a gentle yank.

"It's not as if I do it on purpose, it's just.." Draco frowned, covering her hand with his own.

"Granger, it's who you are. I'm not looking to change it." He didn't quite understand why she was suddenly upset. She had to have known he was teasing her. Unless of course, someone else hadn't been.

"Why don't we eat and you can tell me all about the man who decided you weren't perfectly fine exactly the way you are." Draco sniffed a tureen containing a thick purple concoction before deciding it was definitely one of Luna's creations. Their booth returned to its original position, which made them wonder if it had some sort of magical timer.

"You don't want to know, not really. It's fine." He knew it was something she had said numerous times.

"Granger, that might work with everyone else, but as you well know, I'm not everyone else. Give me a little credit please. I'm sure these aren't ideal conditions for you, but I'm trying here." Draco perused the dishes, settling on a beef dish which looked the least offensive.

He took a bite and groaned in appreciation, before offering Hermione a taste. He smirked as she moved toward taking the offered fork and shook his head. Her eyes widened in surprise, before rewarding him with a half smile. She leaned forward and gods be dammed if she didn't lick the fork before allowing her plump lips to close around it. Draco swallowed while she moaned in delight.

"You play dirty, Granger." Draco hissed, surreptitiously adjusting his trousers.

"So, Malfoy, how many women are going to send me howlers after tomorrow's edition of the Daily Prophet?" Hermione spread a soft cheese on an herb crusted roll, while Draco poured them glasses of a rich red wine.

"That's not very nice, Granger. Are you suggesting I'm some sort of playboy?"

"You said it.." Hermione smirked.

"Tell me who broke you." She knew he was just as stubborn as she was, if not more. She couldn't fathom why she thought he'd let it go. She took a deep breath and a long swallow from her wine glass and began.

Over the next hour, she answered all his questions. Hermione found him easy to converse with, which shocked her quite a bit. She had expected him to be rash and judgmental; instead he was a good listener, refraining from outbursts of anger where Ron was concerned.

Hermione had never spoken of the things Ron had said and done. Draco had expected Harry at the very least would know, but she was quick to point out Harry and Ron were friends before she ever entered the picture. She wasn't one to go about ruining other people's relationships because of her issues.

She was surprised to find herself willingly telling him of every moment Ron Weasley made her feel less than what she was. From the time he'd abandoned her and Harry in the woods hunting horcruxes to a few months prior when he'd told her she should be grateful he'd ever given her a second glance.

"I'm sorry, Granger but he's a wanker. An utter and complete wanker. He called you his friend? Merlin, what the bloody fuck does he say to his enemies? Complete tosser. Let me hex him. Just once, I promise. I won't maim him, well, not much. Oh. Let me tell Stori. She'd take care of him and when the Aurors come, I'll be completely innocent. Yes. Stop shaking your head. Don't laugh. It's completely possible. I'm an Auror. They'd believe me. Especially if wizarding hero Harry Potter said it was true. Aw, Granger, you're not a bit of fun." Hermione laughed at his antics. Draco was practically bouncing in his seat, his eyes flitting around as quickly as his thoughts.

"Shit. He's going to lose his bloody mind tomorrow. I'll have to shut my Floo, reenforce my wards and block direct Apparition. He's such a bloody pain in the arse. Ugh." Hermione's laughter died in her throat, picturing an enraged Ron Weasley pounding on her door and throwing accusations.

Draco remained silent while their dishes were taken away by a wispy witch, her eyes as full of promise as the sway of her hips. Luna waved airily, setting a chocolate concoction on their table and disappearing without a word. Hermione stared at the pastry wondering if it would explode into a sea of pixies when she cut through it.

She missed Draco searching in the pockets of his blazer. Her head tilted to the left, eyeing a sliver of icing dripping down the side of the dessert. Draco's hand slid across the table, tapping the side of her fingers. She felt him brush a curl behind her ear and then it was his breath against her jaw.

"I don't know how to do this. I've never done this before. I've never thought this before, for that matter." Hermione leaned into the hardness of his forehead, fingering the small white box before her. With trembling fingers, she opened it slowly, sighing. She closed her eyes for a moment to remind herself it wasn't real. He hadn't a choice in the matter as much as she didn't. If he had a choice, Hermione deduced he wouldn't be presenting this to _her_ of all the women he could choose.

"I'm losing you again."

"Sorry." Hermione could feel dozens of eyes upon them.

"Stop apologising. I only get to do this once. I brought Potter with me to my vault. This was my grandmum's. She would have liked you. I didn't know much about her, but my mother used to tell me about her. She was a quirky old bird. I didn't think you'd want to wear something flashy and obnoxious. I saved this one in the back of a drawer. It was always my favourite. Its simplicity is what makes it beautiful. I never noticed how beautiful you are. You were always just Granger, until you weren't. I should have noticed." Draco's voice dropped causing Hermione to lean into him to hear the last few words. Her palm brushed his cheek unconsciously while she searched his stormy eyes.

"You're giving me your grandmother's ring?" Hermione hadn't expected such a gesture. Part of her simply assumed he'd toss her a box nonchalantly before leaving her at her flat.

Draco nodded nervously. He knew she wouldn't refuse, but it was still a monumental occasion in their lives. He fumbled with the small white box, removing the sapphire engagement ring. He pinched it between his fingers, ignoring the gasps of surprise around them.

"Wear it?" While it most definitely did not fit into Hermione's ideals of how she would receive a proposal, it wasn't the worst she'd ever heard. It was incredibly sweet and honest, which she decided was better than showy and insincere. She nodded quickly, holding out her hand. Draco willed the tremor in his hands to cease as he slipped the ring onto her finger. They both gasped at the sudden jolt of magic coursing through them. Hermione wondered if it was the solidifying of the contract while Draco contemplated the magic of his family heirloom.

Draco released the breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. Hermione's mouth was moving, but he was incapable of focusing on her words. He was completely distracted by her lips. He didn't care about the flashing of cameras. He didn't care about the whispers or even the thinly veiled insults. He grasped Hermione's head and pulled her toward him, crashing their lips together, during another of her rambles, before her hand stroked his cheek while she melted into his chest.

"Oi. Malfoy. Granger. There's a bloody horde of reporters outside, come on, I'll take you through the back." Blaise tapped the table with his meaty palm, snapping them out of their snogging session.  
Hermione laughed while Blaise hurried them through the kitchen, through the back door and into an alley.

"You're going to tell me how the fuck this came about." Blaise crossed his arms, making his hulking figure seem even more imposing. Draco drew Hermione into his arms, resting his head on her shoulder and nodded.

"Tomorrow." He flashed a smile and without warning, Disapparated.

* * *

Hermione stumbled, immediately kicking off her shoes. She never found Side-Along-Apparition enjoyable and this time was no different. She scrunched her toes into the luxurious carpet before realising she wasn't in her flat. Her flat didn't have luxurious dark grey carpeting. Her flat had hardwood floors and shabby throw rugs.

"Where are we?" Her large brown eyes took in the oversized slate blue sofas and rich, dark wood side tables in front of a fireplace with an empty mantle.

"My flat. I thought now would be as good a time as any for you to decide if we are going to reside here or purchase another residence." Draco tossed his blazer onto an overstuffed armchair near the front door and shrugged.

"I also thought Stori and that Weasley girl would be at your flat and you might prefer to lay low considering it's probably the last night of peace and quiet we'll have until sometime in the New Year."

Hermione wandered the open space, finding herself impressed with his choices in decor. She fingered the bookshelves against the closest wall, resisting the urge to inspect the titles, knowing Draco was smirking behind her. She was the first to admit, his flat, while lovely, wasn't her taste in the least. It didn't have that homey sort of feel she'd grown used to over the years. Hermione was drawn to the long glass table cluttered with open books and parchment in front of a picture window. Her breath caught in her throat while gazing upon the twinkling of the city lights below her.

"Is this a wizarding building?" She started at the sensation of cool fingers upon her shoulders. She hadn't heard him glide across the room to stand behind her. Hermione attempted to tamp down the shiver along her spine as his lips left a blazing trail along the contours of her neck, before an arm wrapped around her midsection.

"Mmhmm. Memorial Gardens. It's the first medley building to exist on the outskirts of Muggle London." Draco's teeth nipped her earlobe, a singular finger skimming across her shoulder, down to her elbow and back again.

"Dumbledore's idea I believe. The top ten floors are available for witches and wizards, the rest are Muggle flats."

"Malfoy, wh-what are you doing?" He was enjoying the effect he was having on her.

He had never dreamed Hermione Granger could be so easily flustered. Perhaps marrying the Gryffindor Ice Queen wouldn't be the worst possible thing he could do with his life. At the very least, she seemed to be melting under a few errant touches and kisses. Draco imagined her curls splayed across his chest, her soft supple body pressed against him and groaned.

"Exploring. Studying. Learning. Isn't that your favourite pastime Granger?" Hermione was cursing her past relationships in a mindless flurry of misplaced anger.

She had always believed herself to be defective or at the very least undesirable. Ron had always told her how difficult it was to be aroused by her. How completely unresponsive she was to any of his sexual advances. The truth was she wasn't the least bit attracted to him. She tried to be, but her childish infatuation with her friend had waned long before he decided she was worth a second glance.

"Why?" Hermione didn't recognise the low pitched husky whisper as her own until Draco chuckled into her hair.

He spun her around without warning, pinning her to his unclad chest. Her hands were trapped against his pale, muscular chest, his heart pounding beneath her fingertips.

_*When had he removed his shirt?*_ She gasped as his hands roamed the contours of her body, settling beneath the generous rounding of her arse.

"I'm bloody curious, Granger. I want to see what makes you tick. For instance, when I kiss you right _here_..." Draco leaned forward his teeth, tongue, lips pressing, nibbling, and tasting the skin just below her ear. "Your breath hitches, you blush and there's a bit of a tremble in your limbs, which shows me no one's ever fully explored you. This dress has got to bloody go."

"I'm not..I'm not."

"Granger. I never said I was planning on shagging you." She jerked in his arms, struggling against him.

"At least, not tonight." He ignored the instant stiffening to her limbs, yet he released her.

Draco was unexpectedly enamored by her. Hermione's eyes were closed, her fingertips against her lips. He left her leaning against the table to pour them a much needed drink. He stood near the sink, leaning over the basin.

Hermione's head was spinning. It was too much, too fast. This morning she had been pouring over tomes in the Archives trying to research a particularly nasty curse. This evening she was engaged to Draco Malfoy, snogging him in his flat. She gazed at the sparkling sapphire on her third finger.

She pushed off from the table, knocking a few pieces of parchment to the floor. She sauntered over to the sofa and picked up Draco's discarded dress shirt. She _was_ uncomfortable. Hermione saw Draco leaning over the basin, his back pale and rippled in the soft light. She kept her eyes on his slouched form while she unzipped her dress. Inwardly she cursed Ginny for talking her into the navy scraps of lace which passed for knickers and the matching demi bra. She slipped into his dress shirt, thankful it brushed her knees while she buttoned it quickly.

"What are we drinking?" Draco clutched a tumbler in his hand, his chin almost touching his chest. He didn't turn to look at her, instead handing her the bottle. "Ogden's, of course, ugh." He allowed her small hands to remove the glass from his hand. He listened to the clink of the bottle and the sounds of liquid before he opened his eyes.

"Not a fan?"

"Not since Ginny imbibed too much and put on what can only be described as a particularly raunchy show with Luna's stuffed lion." Hermione shuddered in memory.

"What's your pleasure then, Granger? I'm sure I have it." Draco swallowed hard, looking at her in his shirt. It was perfectly modest, but there was something about it which made his trousers incredibly tight.

"Oh, I should have asked. I'm sorry. Is this not alright? I.."

"Stop bloody apologising. It's fine. I just wasn't expecting it, that's all. There are clothes in the bedroom." Draco flung open the glass door cabinet next to the sink basin lined with glass bottles.

"Malfoy. I'm not wearing one of your slags cast offs!" Hermione gave him a light shove and perused the bottles. She had difficulty reaching the top shelf and felt Draco's shirt slide up the back of her thighs while she rose onto the tips of her toes to snatch the bottle of tequila.

Draco knew the gentlemanly thing to do, would be to help her, but he couldn't help but watch the soft material rise higher and higher, wishing it were his hands. With a strangled noise, he pulled down the bottle before it landed on her head.

"I'll have you know, Granger, I've never had a woman in my flat. Mother had the closet stocked before I arrived home from the Ministry."

"Sor.."

"Don't say it. We really need to work on that, Granger. Malfoy's do not apologise." Hermione nodded, taking a small swig from the bottle. She gasped at the burn in her throat.

"Does the little Gryffindor require training wheels?"

"Shut it, Malfoy. It's simply been awhile." Hermione took the bottle and flounced from the small kitchen to land on the sofa.

Draco Malfoy filed away a handy mental note to remind himself an intoxicated Hermione Granger was his new favourite entertainment. She giggled while reclining on the arm of the sofa. He should probably inform her, she was giving him a delightful peep show of her knickers, but he didn't wish to ruin the view.

"It's so bloody warm in here. How do you stand it?!" Hermione partially unbuttoned Draco's shirt, spreading it open while fanning herself.

"Have some water." Draco had stopped drinking an hour before. He felt it was the responsible thing to do, as much as it chaffed him.

"Help me take this off." Hermione tugged on her string of pearls, her fingers refusing to work properly. She knew she wasn't completely pissed, but she was enjoying the evaporation of anxiety within her.

"Come here then." Draco lounged on the other end of the sofa, his feet propped on the dark wood coffee table. Hermione crawled across toward him, laughing. Draco's eyes widened as his shirt gaped away from her, displaying the supple body beneath.

"Your face!" Hermione climbed onto his lap, unceremoniously straddling him. Draco dropped his tumbler of firewhisky when her head settled onto his shoulder. Carefully, he removed the strand of pearls, dropping them on the floor beside the sofa.

"What's wrong with my face?" He settled his hands on her exposed thighs and knew he had to distract himself.

"Not a damn thing." His fingers toyed with the bottom of his shirt, grazing the tiny scraps of lace on her hips. She caught his earlobe in her teeth, giggling when he groaned.

_*Quick. Think of something else. Quidditch. Goblins. Father. McGonagall naked. McGonagall shagging Filch. No, too much.*_

Hermione rocked in his lap, her fingers in his hair, pulling, tugging as her lips danced across his skin. Her shirt was bunched around her waist, but she no longer cared. She was addicted to the feel of his skin against hers, his hands wandering up her back, his lip against the hollow of her throat. Hermione threw her head back, thrusting her chest forward as she ground into him. She didn't have the slightest idea what she was doing to him, but as unfamiliar as it was, she couldn't resist the sensations.

Draco knew he should stop. As much as he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and ravish her in his bed, he didn't want her to regret their actions in the morning. He wondered where his trousers had gone when he saw Hermione toss her wand across the sofa. She had also vanished her bra for that matter and he ached to touch her.

"Granger." Draco bit her neck, knowing it would leave a mark. If she didn't stop grinding into him, he was going to lose it. He hadn't come in his bloody shorts since fourth year and here was Hermione Granger making him feel like a randy teen.

"Shut up." He could feel the dampness of her knickers against his throbbing erection and almost lost himself in her whimpers.

In a moment clarity, he removed Hermione from his lap, rushing from the room. He wrenched open the cabinet over the washroom sink basin, rifling through the glass bottles. With a sigh of relief and a side of panic, he gathered an amber bottle in his palm.

"Here. Drink this." He thrust the bottle into Hermione's hand, ignoring her petulant frown.

She popped off the lid and downed it, glaring at him. Draco kept a respectable distance between them, waiting for the potion to course through her system. Hermione shook her head, the alcohol induced haze slowly lifting.

"Huh. I guess he was right. That's a bit disturbing. Although, I'm sure it would thrill him to no end." Hermione tapped the corner of her lip with her forefinger. She stared at the imprints of her feet in the carpet, ignoring the wizard across the room.

"Who?" Draco was painfully aware he was attempting to hold a civil conversation with a half naked Hermione Granger while only clad in his grey boxers.

"No matter, Malfoy." Hermione waved her hand, gathering her dark blue dress from the back of the sofa and picking up one shoe. "I'll be out of your hair in a jiff." She bent over at the waist, giving him an alluring vision of her long legs and the cusp of her bum.

Draco tucked her wand into the sofa cushions, kicked her shoe under the coffee table and crossed his arms. Hermione continued to frown but stood stock still, searching his eyes.

"Stop it, Granger." Draco walked slowly around the sofa and removed the dress from her hands before grasping her shoulders.

"Stop what? I mean, I thought everything was fine, but obviously it wasn't and you want me to go so I'm going. I didn't expect you to want me, no one ever has. Its fine and.."

"Stop it, Granger. Merlin, you're completely infuriating. I don't know what sort of bollocks that tosser Weasley ingrained into that pretty little head of yours, but this is bloody ridiculous." Hermione didn't move away from his body heat, even as he pressed her into him.

"Oh, well, it's simply.." She paused, considering her words carefully while Draco's fingers toyed with the hair on the nape of her neck.

"Nothing is ever simple with you, woman."

"Ron said he's need half a bottle of firewhisky to look at me twice. He'd pour me glass after glass until I couldn't bloody see straight. H-he'd blame me for his..his inability to..well you know, pour a sobering potion down my throat and send me home. All the while of course, he proclaimed he was the best someone like me could ever expect to have and no one in their right mind would be attracted to me."

"You believed him?" He swallowed the bile in his throat with difficulty.

When Draco was a child, he fervently wished someone would put the bushy haired freak in her place. He thought all she needed was a good reprimand and she'd step in line, be exactly what she was supposed to be. She was beneath all of them. It was ridiculous to him that a Mudblood could perform better than he in anything.

Of course, after the fall of the Dark Lord, after watching her writhe on the floor of his family's Manor, after seeing her blood was the same as everyone else's, he'd discarded the antiquated notions of his ancestors. He'd been taken in by her kindness. Especially after she had approached his family in the Great Hall, making sure_ they _were alright. Draco discovered, in that moment, his fondness for the Gryffindor, as much as it chaffed him to admit it. It grew greater than he thought possible after she willingly testified _for_ him before the Wizengamot. He never would have done such a thing, but she was just so damn forgiving and apparently incredibly naive as well.

"I wasn't sure. I've been a bit of a mess since the war and I mean, he only said such things when he was completely pissed. He was quite nice without a spot to drink, but I think I always wondered. And then you..and I just thought.." Hermione sighed, feeling herself lulled by the warm hand spinning circles on her back.

"Fuck it." Draco unceremoniously tossed Hermione over his shoulder and headed into his bedroom.  
The expression on Hermione's face as she bounced on his bed would have been comical in another situation. As it was, he only wished to stop the incessant ramblings of her mind. He knew it was a long shot. When did Hermione Granger ever stop thinking; but he couldn't bear it any longer.

He didn't know how to explain. He, Draco Malfoy, did not know how to tell Hermione fucking Granger that he didn't want to treat her like a one off. He didn't want to treat her like one of the many slags he'd bedded. He didn't want to treat the woman he was bound to marry like she was worth less than. He also didn't want her first sexual experience to be marred by the haze of alcohol. He wanted her to remember everything and savor it.

Hermione scrambled along the satin sheets until she hit the headboard. Draco growled as he climbed onto the bed, his grey eyes darkened with unmistakable lust. He encircled her ankle, yanking her down the bed and crawled on top of her, bracing his weight on his hands.

"I'm going to make you forget every lie Weasel ever spoke. Every time you speak his name, I'm going to shag you senseless." The clasp in her hair fell to the side, splaying her loose, dark curls across his light blue sheets.

His dress shirt was bunched under her breasts, the lace of her bra teasing him. He wondered when it had made a reappearance. Her eyes were wide, though whether it was with disbelief or panic, he couldn't be sure.

"Close your eyes." With his palm on her stomach, he lowered himself beside her, watching the rise and fall of pebbled peaks encased in blue.

For a moment, Hermione wished to rebel. She wanted to gather her sparse belongings and race back to her flat to analyze every passing moment. Instead, she closed her eyes, trying to calm the erratic beating of her heart. She knew it was truly only a matter of time before Malfoy discovered what Ron and even Viktor knew to be true. She hadn't an ounce of sex appeal, which really didn't bother her as much as it probably should.

She held her breath, while nimble fingers opened the white dress shirt barely clinging to her goose pimpled flesh. Warm hands drew intricate circles across her abdomen, teasing the edge of her lacy knickers, fingering the band of her bra.

When she thought back to their first time, she still wouldn't know how her remaining pieces of clothing were removed. She only knew she was naked beneath Draco Malfoy. His hot breath against her neck, his lips pressed to hers, probing, searching. Her skin on fire, his hands gently squeezing her breasts, painting circles of moisture across rosy peaks. His hard body on top of hers, whispered words of encouragement while her shaking fingers grazed his chest. A knee between her thighs, spreading her legs. The first touch at the apex of her thighs. Beads of sweat dipping into the valley between her breasts. Stuttered breaths, whimpers, gasps, moans and even growls. A fistful of hair tugging her head backward. Silky strands caught between petite fingers. Nails raking down his pale back, pulling him closer and it never being close enough. Shoving him backward, climbing astride his narrow hips. Pinning his wrists above his head, attacking his lips until she was rewarded with a groan and a rumble. Grasping his hardened length in her hand, marveling at the oxymoron of its rigidity and softness. Watching his eyes squeeze tightly shut as she stroked him before he tossed her onto her back. The laughter filling his bedroom when she wrapped her legs around his waist. His smirk against her cheek, with his fingers in her most delicate places until she writhed beneath him, begging him for more. The sharp gasp the first time she felt herself fill with him, thinking she couldn't possibly feel anymore pleasure, until he became to move.

"Fuck, Malfoy." Draco bit her neck, hard, adjusting her leg behind his back.

"Draco. Say it." He groaned as her nails dug rivets into his lower back.

"Merlin, Draco." He could feel her pulsing around him. He pulled back to watch her. No one would recognise the Hermione Granger beneath him. Her skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. A light flush decorated her lightly tanned skin. Her bottom lip was swollen, red and tightly clenched between her teeth. Whimpers of discontent escaped between her pants of desire.

"Stop teasing me." Hermione's head thrashed from side to side while she clawed his chest. He drew one of her legs over his shoulder, slapping a perfectly exposed arse cheek. She gasped, her eyes flying open, darkened with want.

"Tell me what you want." Draco plunged into her, as her back arched, offering him a perfect breast for tasting.

"I want you...to fuck me." He slapped her arse again, withdrawing achingly slow. "Draco."

As the unexpected yet titillating sting on her bottom pushed Hermione over the proverbial edge, his name on her lips was his very undoing. He collapsed, sliding off her as their sweat mingled with sighs of contentment and wonder.

"Are you alright?" Hermione stared at the ceiling, unable to see anything really, but she felt a bit awkward. Draco propped his head on a bent elbow beneath his head, finally able to regulate his breaths.

"I think so." Hermione laughed, "Try to wait until I go back to my flat, before you send your owls."

"Owls? Whoever would I send owls at this time of morning?" Draco frowned, wondering if there was a subtle edge to her words.

"I'm sure the Slytherin Sex God has to confirm his reputation by deflowering the Gryffindor Princess." She hadn't meant to come across as bitter as she sounded.

The dark as pitch hid her pained expression and also his sudden movement. Her breasts were flattened, her head constricted by hard elbows beside her jaw and fingers in her unruly hair.

"Hermione Granger, I shall not be discussing _our_ sexual escapades with anyone. I will probably always be an arrogant arse. I'm a Malfoy. However, I will never sink so low as to bring embarrassment upon my wife. I will say horrid things. I'll be inconsiderate. I'll make you cry, because I don't know any better yet. I don't know how to love you because I've never truly loved anyone beyond my mother. I'm not going to tell you I love you, until I'm absolutely positive I do. I fancy you. I have begrudgingly admired you for years. I hate Harry Potter for pointing out such things as well, however, what happens in our bedroom? That stays here. I'm not a complete cad.

'And. For your information, my reputation as the Slytherin Sex God is completely exaggerated. There will be no more talk of you returning to your flat. You'll live here with me, until we purchase something else. Now, give me a kiss and go to sleep. We have a horrendously long day tomorrow or rather today. It's my bloody half-birthday and I've already collected my present." Draco leisurely kissed her before flopping onto his side and dragging her against him.

"Yes, sir." Hermione giggled, closing her eyes.

"I like the sound of that."


	3. The Confusion

**AN: mah lovely reviews &amp; followers...make me happy inside.**

* * *

Chapter 3 - The Confusion

Hermione woke long before the very idea of rising before noon occurred to Draco Malfoy. She watched him sleep for a few moments with his forearm across his eyes, before slipping out from beside him. She pulled the coverlet over him and escaped to the washroom.

A few moments later she was wrapped in a fluffy white towel, browsing through the extensive wardrobe in the closet. She huffed at the selections, wondering when Narcissa was going to realise she would never be comfortable in ball gowns simply for the sake of them. She almost squealed with delight when she discovered the bureau of Muggle clothes stuffed in the furthest corner. Hermione sighed as she slipped on a teal cable knit sweater and pair of soft faded jeans. She knew Astoria had something to do with the selections and decided to have a word the bubbling blonde.

Hermione waited for the wave of guilt and regret to wash over her while she fixed herself a spot of tea and toast, but it never came. She wandered over to the glass table, Draco's papers catching her eye.

"Well, this is wrong." She shook her head glancing over the pages of rune translations. She tied her hair into an unruly knot on top of her head, grabbed a quill and a blank piece of parchment.

"I understand the idea behind it, but this string of words doesn't make a bit of sense. They're obviously using the letters. Hmm." Hermione chewed the end of her quill, her tea long cooled and forgotten.

"Never figured you for a snoop." Hermione screamed, knocking over her tea cup while leaping away from the sultry voice in her ear.

Draco's throaty laugh reverberated against empty walls. He quickly snatched the tea cup from the table, using a blank piece of parchment to contain the spill. Instinctively, Hermione smacked his chest, forgetting for a moment, he wasn't Ron. She gasped, eyes wide while backing away from him. His laughter died in his throat upon spying the blatant fear. Before he could reach for her, utter a word, she had grabbed a handful of Floo powder and disappeared in the green flames.

"What the fuck just happened?" Draco spun, asking the empty room.

* * *

"About time! Stori! She's home!" Ginny Weasley tossed her wand onto the tatty sofa and rolled her eyes.

"Did you stay here all night?" Hermione brushed the remnants of soot from her sweater while staring at a rumpled Ginny and a groggy Astoria.

"We wanted to hear all about your date, but you never came home."

"What are you wearing?"

"Where is Malfoy?"

"Have you seen the Daily Prophet?"

Hermione's eyes flicked back and forth between the witches, overwhelmed by their barrage of questions before bursting into tears.

"I think we broke her."

"It wasn't me! It was you!" Stori shoved Ginny out of the way. She held Hermione's hands and lead her toward the sofa.

Hermione curled into a ball, her head on Astoria's lap, while Ginny lit the kettle for tea.

"Do you think she was with Draco?"

"Does he have a habit of making women cry? Wait, don't answer that." Ginny rolled her eyes. She spooned Hermione's preferred blend of tea leaves into an assortment of mismatched china cups.

"Stori?!" Astoria shrieked, jolting Hermione when Harry Potter's head appeared in the Floo.

"Oh look at that! It's famous Harry Potter finally deciding to see to the welfare of his absent wife." Stori picked up a well worn paperback and threw it into the fireplace.

"Hey! I bloody told you I was out on assignment. I sent an owl! Why is Hermione crying? Why is Ginny in her knickers? What the fuck is going on? Oi. I have to go. Malfoy's here."

"So, I take it Harry is still an inconsiderate, completely clueless idiot?" Ginny carried the tea service into the living room and flounced next to Hermione, patting her haphazardly on the back.

"Aren't you bloody glad you didn't marry him?" Astoria took a sip of the piping hot tea and grimaced.

"You're complete shit fixing tea."

"I don't like you." Ginny's lip curled with derision. "Accio honey." Ginny slammed the jar of honey onto the table, flipping her long hair over her shoulder.

"I don't appreciate you walking around in your knickers."

"Oh please, Harry's seen me naked for Merlin's sake. As if me in my knickers is going to get his blood boiling. And if it does? You're not doing your job properly." Ginny dropped a few sugar cubes into her tea.  
Hermione sobbed, yet her friends ignored her as they bickered with each other.

"Which you must constantly remind me. He wasn't the first and he definitely won't be the last the way you just give it away!"

"You think I want Harry? Believe me, if I wanted him, I could have him."

"Please! Take him!" Astoria sniffed, her lips trembling.

"Ick. I love Harry and all, but no. I've _so_ moved on." Ginny rolled her shoulders and rubbed her eyes. She felt a moment of regret as tears began streaming down Astoria's apple cheeks.

"He bloody hasn't." The words were spoken so quietly, Ginny almost missed them and cringed.

"Well, Harry's a complete imbecile. My git of a brother is his best friend. If it weren't for Hermione here, the lot of them would have died. They deserve each other. Ugh."

"Every time I'm ready to tell him, he talks about you. Did you see Ginny yesterday? It's a good thing she stopped playing Quidditch. She's much too pretty a girl to wind up all damaged. Quidditch is a physical game you know. If I decide to go home? He's going to talk about your bloody knickers all day. I can't take it." Astoria sobbed into Hermione's shoulder.

"Fantastic." Ginny grit her teeth. "Tell him what?" She didn't really want to know. She was having a devil of time being polite to the woman. It's not that she disliked Astoria. It was simply Astoria was everything she wasn't, which she believed was her appeal. She hadn't a bloody clue Harry still spoke of her, which wasn't her fault.

"I'm pregnant." Ginny sighed and closed her eyes, imaging all the ways she could hex Harry Potter. Bat-bogey hex of course. Perhaps she'd hang him from the Whomping Willow. That could be entertaining. She could slip a piece of Ton-Tongue Taffy into his afternoon tea.

"I've been using a concealment glamour for months. He's such an idiot. Why do I love an idiot?"

"Why the fuck are you doing this to yourself? Fuck this." Ginny left Astoria and Hermione to wallow in their misery together. She stalked into the Hermione's guest room and threw on a pair of Muggle jeans.

"Potters!" Ginny screeched into the Floo, disappearing.

"Harry fucking Potter, I'm going to hex your bollocks off!" Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace, giving her ex boyfriend a hearty shove. She opened her mouth prepared to let loose a litany of curses when she glanced around the sitting room.

Draco Malfoy had his wand to Ron Weasley's throat, his face contorted in an all consuming rage. Theo Nott stood against the mantle, a snickering into a glass of firewhisky and Harry Potter, who had fallen over the coffee table, sat on the floor, dazed.

"What the fuck just happened?" Ginny lowered her wand, her hands on her hips. Harry swallowed hard, having visions of an angry Molly Weasley.

"I just woke up; don't ask me a bloody thing."

"Bloody hell!"

"Fuck you, Weasel."

"I just got home!"

Ginny rolled her eyes and growled.

"Sit down. All of you. NOW." Harry scooted backward until he felt the green armchair behind him. He climbed into it, never taking his eyes off the fiery redhead. Theo sunk to the floor with a smile. Draco gave Ron a shove, yet he moved away from the rumpled redhead to sit across from Harry. Ron rubbed the red mark on his neck and opened his mouth.

"Shut the fuck up Ron." Ginny pointed to the sofa with her wand. He glared at her and kicked Draco's foot but sat.

"First. Theo. Why are you still here?"

"Got drunk. Stori said...there's a couch, sleep on it. Did. Woke up. Malfoy angry. Drinking more. Most fun I've had in years." Theo laughed into his glass.

"We didn't want him to splinch himself." Harry interjected.

"It's not your turn, Potter."

"Oi. Git, why are you here?" Ron crossed his arms, nodding, until he realised Ginny was referring to him.

"Oi! I'm your brother."

"And also a git. Answer the question."

"I got back this morning. Mum sent me an owl."

"Back from where?"

"I'm not answering in front of **him**." Ginny's eyes narrowed as she saw the tip of Ron's wand edge toward Draco.

"Accio wands." Ginny easily caught Theo, Harry, Draco and Ron's wands while rolling her eyes.

"Ginny!"

"Weaselette!"

"Bitch!" Harry closed his eyes and covered his face at Ron's outburst. Draco crossed his legs and shook his head. Moments later Ron was screeching while impressively large bats soared from his nostrils.

"Malfoy?" Draco snorted. It was obvious Ginny was planning on ignoring the dramatics of her brother.

"Actually, I was looking for Granger."

"Why here? Why didn't you go to her flat?" It seemed to all the concerned parties, Ginny was least irritated with Draco Malfoy. Would wonders never cease?

"I thought perhaps she'd be with Stori, which would allow me to speak with Potter as well. Instead I walked into an angry shit show." Draco shrugged.

"Ron. Where were you?"

"Uh, Ginny..."

"It's not your fucking turn, Potter."

"I was in America alright?! After Hermione bloody dumped me and you and everyone else fucking ganged up on me, I realised you were right. There's a really good program there, a magical program so I went to dry out."

"You quit drinking?"

"Well, yeah. Apparently I was a bit of a bastard when I had too much and it just started becoming an everyday sort of thing. The more I drank the more I wanted to drink. Eventually I started uhm, well, blacking out. I couldn't remember the things I was doing or had done. Harry said I was cruel to Hermione. I didn't believe him, because I love her you know?" He ignored Draco growl. "He showed me in the pensieve, which is the same day I left. I thought once I was alright, I'd come back and Hermione and me would be ok but she's MARRYING Malfoy. Can you believe it? It's like I was nothing. Like we were nothing and I just.."

"Ron, shut it. First, she did not dump you. You treated her terribly. Even at Hogwarts. You're bloody deluded. You didn't even really have a relationship with her. You were indecisive and after you couldn't snag anyone else you went to her as a last resort. She's Hermione bloody Granger. She's brilliant and you treated her as if she wasn't worth the effort. Now you're angry someone else decided she _is_ worth it? Isn't that just a bit of tough shit? Get over it." Ginny leaned over and took Theo's glass. She sniffed the liquid, shrugged and down it easily.

"Malfoy. Don't hex my brother. I know he's a git. I know he's an imbecile. I know he deserves it, but you got the girl. Let him keep whatever shred of dignity he thinks he possesses." Ginny rolled her eyes and patted Draco's shoulder awkwardly.

"Alright then. Potter. Your wife is bawling her pretty little eyes out on Hermione's sofa. Go talk to her. Don't come back until you have. Malfoy. Your fiancée is also sobbing into her sofa. I don't know why. At this point, I don't bloody care. Go take care of it. Ron. Go home. Mum will feed you until you can't walk and I'm sure Harry will owl you later. Theo, let's go upstairs."

"But.."

"SHUT IT! GO!" Harry stepped into the Floo, mumbling something about being kicked out of his own ruddy house. Ron ambled to the front door begrudgingly. Theo swayed on his long legs, wiggling his dark eyebrows at Ginny.

"I don't know her Floo.." Draco Malfoy looked at Ginny expectantly.

"Mariposa. She's completely unoriginal. It's the name of the building. Good luck." Ginny smiled with a wave, dragging Theo up the narrow flight of stairs by his tie.

* * *

"What do you mean you're pregnant?"

"Exactly what I said Harry James Potter!" Astoria Potter threw her tea cup at Harry's head, causing Draco to duck as it shattered against the mantle.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione ignored the cacophony of raised voices, her eyes zeroing in on the bewildered wizard stepping from her floo.

"You left." Draco answered stupidly.

"What do you mean you've been trying to tell me for months? You don't look pregnant at all!"

"Witches and wizards, take a look at Mr. Harry Potter, Auror Extraordinaire. He's never seen a concealment charm in his entire bloody life!" Astoria stamped her foot, drawing her wand.

"Uh, Granger? Perhaps we should.." Draco gestured toward the kitchen, taking a few cautious steps away from what looked to be an escalating argument. Hermione nodded, wiping her face with her hands.

"Is Stori really pregnant?" Hermione nodded, edging away from the increasing closeness of one Draco Malfoy.

"She has a bit of an issue with Harry's constant gushing over Ginny, so she didn't tell him."

"Don't ever do that to me." Hermione studied him, taking in his awkward form in her galley kitchen. His grey eyes had flecks of blue in them, yet instead of the careful calculation she was used to seeing in them, they were filled with a subtle vulnerability she found endearing. His pale hair seemed almost white in the stark light and he seemed almost folded in upon himself.

"I'm sorry I left." It was a weak response and Hermione knew it the moment it passed her lips, yet it was better than the silence.

"Stop apologising. I just want to understand."

"Why? The Draco Malfoy I remember would be threatening the Ministry, sneering at me with every breath and dictating he would never touch a filthy Mudblood. Although, you _are _an Auror, so perhaps you wouldn't say the bit about me being a Mudblood, but the rest? Perhaps." Hermione crossed her arms, tapping her foot.

Draco saw the familiar flash in Hermione's eyes. The one he'd come to know well from their years at Hogwarts. She was on the verge of hexing someone and that someone was him. Suddenly he _**was**_ angry. He was angry with her for assuming him to be someone he wasn't. He was angry with the Ministry and even Dumbledore for forcing their hands into an obviously volatile situation. He was angry with himself for fancying Hermione bloody Granger in the first place. He was angry with her for sifting through his papers with her tiny little notes, correcting his translations and leaving.

"Oh, I see. The Gryffindor Ice Queen or Princess, which is it these days? I can't quite keep abreast of the Daily Prophet's revolving terms of endearment for one Hermione Granger. She's angry I'm refusing to maintain the façade which almost bloody killed me. You'd prefer I reverted to the nasty little tosser? Really? The one who took the Dark Mark to survive? The one who let the bloody Death Eaters into Hogwarts? The one who fucking watched…who watched y-you.." His voice broke, fueling his fury, completely unaware of the singular tear dropping down his cheek.

"Malfoy, stop. Please." Hermione wrung her hands nervously.

They were vaguely aware of the cessation of angry voices emanating from the living room. Draco's fingernails dug into the palms of his clenched fists. He hissed as if he were in pain, perhaps he was, as Hermione's fingertips splayed across his chest. He could feel her curls barely brushing his chin as he inhaled.

"I'm sor.."

"Don't fucking say it. I swear I'll Avada you myself." She knew he was struggling to maintain a sliver of control.

She couldn't imagine being forced to live with Voldemort anymore than he could imagine being best friends with Harry Potter. Using her thumb, she wiped away the last vestiges of tears.

"Draco." His eyes snapped open, instant smoldering.

"Of all the witches in the world, why does it have to be you?" His fingers dug into Hermione's hips. Easily he lifted her onto the counter, wrenching open her knees while his teeth descended onto her neck. He tore her sweater over her head, her legs wrapped around his waist.

"We should leave." Harry Potter plucked the sleeve of his wife's peasant blouse even as she slapped his hands away.

"Fuck no, get Ginny." Astoria's cheek flushed while she watched Hermione shove Draco's shirt off his shoulders.

"You better have a good reason for...oh, what are we watching?" Ginny growled upon spying Draco Malfoy bent over her friend, kneading her breasts.

"That's hot." Astoria and Ginny stared into the kitchen, their mouths slightly opened.

"What's wrong with them?" Theo poked Harry in the ribs, his lounge pants hanging low on his hips.

"Malfoy and Hermione are uhm, well they're.."

"Snogging?" Harry nodded, closing his green eyes, willing the noises to dissipate.

"Nice." Theo sauntered over to the women, wedging himself between them.

"Look at those muscles! Cor, that's fucking sexy." Astoria purred, gripping Theo's thigh.

"Sweet Merlin, look at that arch on her back. I'd kill for a body like that." Ginny squeezed Theo's remaining thigh as Draco lifted Hermione off the counter.

"Granger has an impressive rack." Theo nodded, tossing an arm around each witch. If he was going to watch a live snogfest, there was no place he'd rather be.

"We're no slouch in the tits department, Nott." Ginny huffed with indignation, pulling the haphazard sheet around her frame. Harry had pulled her into the Floo so quickly; it was all she could do to cover her nudity.

"Let me judge for myself." Theo winked, his hands prodding the sides of their breasts.

Astoria peaked over her shoulder to find Harry completely ensconced with the telly. She rolled her eyes, yet lifted her arm slightly, allowing Theo access. Theo pulled the back of Ginny's sheet down, stroking her breasts slowly while his eyes remained on the moaning couple.

Astoria gasped, pressing her thighs together as she felt Theo's nimble fingers brush across the hardened peak. Ginny's eyes closed as Theo licked the side of her neck, his hand inching its way under her sheet.  
Theo dropped to his knees, spreading Ginny's thighs wide before dipping his tongue into her centre. It was obvious no one had ever ventured into such endeavors before as Ginny gasped gripping the arm of the sofa, before sliding to the floor. Astoria moaned, apparently simply watching the act was more than she could take.

Ginny pulled Theo's dark hair varying between pushing him away and yanking him closer. He pulled her to the floor and covered her mouth as her back arched, her body shuddering. Ginny unzipped his pants releasing his erection before impaling herself. Theo kissed her hard, his hands digging into the supple flesh of her arse, urging her faster.

"Stori? Why are you on the floor?" Harry Potter stood at his wife's head, curious as to why her knees were knocking together and her eyes were closed.

"Go away or join in Potter." Ginny growled, slamming onto Theo with a high pitched mew.

Harry backed away from them slowly. His best friend was snogging Draco Malfoy. Ron's baby sister was shagging Theo Nott on the floor and his wife looked as though she was completely incapacitated. Absently he rubbed his scar, trying to piece together what sort of animal instinct had over taken everyone.

"If you don't fuck me, right here, right now, I'm fucking Theo when Ginny's done." Astoria shoved Harry onto Hermione's sofa, tearing off his slacks.

He did so love it when his wife talked dirty to him. She ripped open his shirt, disregarding the buttons flying off while raking her nails down his chest.

"Hermione and Draco are half naked, shagging right there in the kitchen. She's moaning for him as he pounds right into her. Theo pinched my nipples and I liked it. Ginny watched. I bet she was touching herself. Are you going to touch me, Harry?" Harry groaned. He flipped Astoria onto her back, plunging into her. He loved to watch her expressive face. He loved the way she squeezed around him. He loved the feel of her hips bucking, the sight of her breasts bouncing and the filthy words streaming from her delicate lips.

"Malfoy, no. We can't." Hermione had difficulty regaining her senses as Draco's lips trailed down the side of her neck, his fingers sliding the straps of her bra down creamy shoulders.

"I forgot they were here." Draco pulled away, glancing over his shoulder before bending to retrieve Hermione's sweater.

"They seem to be...enjoying themselves?" Hermione refused to look at her best friend's arse bob in the air on her sofa. There were simply some things which could never be unseen.

"Potter's not very good at that is he?" Draco shook his head.

"Ginny used to say the same thing. It's part of the reason they broke up. Ginny likes a bit of excitement." Hermione slipped on her sweater, wondering how she let herself lose herself in the moment.

"Theo's the right man for her then. He'll do it anywhere."

"Should we leave?"

"Why? Potter's almost done." Draco barely raised his shoulder. He twirled lacy bits of ripped lace on his fingertip while wiggling his pale eyebrows at Hermione.

"My flat smells like sex."

"Good thing you'll not be living here any longer."

"You make a lot of assumptions, Malfoy."

"Fine. I own the building. Consider yourself evicted. Pack your shit. I'd like to go home." Hermione sputtered, yet she marched into her bedroom and from the sound of it, she was packing.

"Oi! Bloody exhibitionists! Go home!"

"Aw, Malfoy isn't a bit of fun. He never did like to share his toys." Theo grumbled, giving Ginny a shove off his lap. "Potter. You should have lunch with Blaise." Theo tossed a patchwork quilt over Harry's bare arse before stepping into the Floo.

Draco snorted. Blaise Zabini was well known for his inability to converse without blatant references to sex. If Draco was being honest with himself, he had learned a thing or two from the imposing Italian.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry pulled the quilt over his wife's naked form, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Harry, Merlin knows I love you, but please, have lunch with Blaise." Astoria grunted giving her husband a shove while tying her blouse closed.

"Potter, put your exceedingly dissatisfying prick away and come to my flat. Granger's made a bit of headway with those runes. No, I didn't bloody ask. She's a horrid little snoop." Draco shrugged into his shirt, wondering when he had lost all the buttons as Hermione exited her bedroom.

"What about my furniture?" She glowered, pointedly ignoring his outstretched hand.

"Leave it. We'll offer the flat fully furnished." Hermione opened her mouth to argue, yet she realised Draco had a point. She didn't necessarily need her things; she was simply attached to them.

"This is all too fast. I don't..I can't..it's.." Hermione pressed clenched fists to her temples. Holding her breath, she took long blinks, willing the bright flashes of blinding light behind her eyelids to dissipate. The whimpers built in the back of her throat while her knees trembled. It was only a matter of moments before her knees completely buckled.

"Shit. Move Harry." Astoria shoved Harry off the sofa. "Draco, sit her down. I'll get the potion." Draco shoved Hermione into a tall backed wooden chair.

"I thought she was better?" Harry pulled on his t shirt and gave Ginny a kick.

"This is better, Harry. It's been months actually. Think about it. She's been working tirelessly in the Archives helping Bill with some research. Dumbledore's called in the debt. She's engaged to Draco. Apparently she shagged him as well. Now she's moving in with him. Last week, she was single, work-a-holic, Hermione Granger. It was only a matter of time before she blew. At least we caught it early." Astoria tilted Hermione's head back and poured the potion down her throat.

"Quick! Silence her!" Ginny bound up from the floor watching Hermione's mouth open in a silent scream.  
They were well aware; it wasn't going to stay silent. Harry cursed yet flicked his wand, silencing Hermione before the low rumble could rise to a volume which could melt walls.

"Will she...be alright?" Draco was well aware the present company knew exactly what to do in the midst of Hermione's 'fit' for lack of a better term. He felt completely inept and ill prepared if this sort of occurrence would be a regular feature in his future.

"Give it a few moments, the potion hasn't kicked in yet. It's best just to sit her down and pour a Calming Draught down her throat. If she starts mumbling or keening, Silencing her is the best route to take. She'll have a bugger of a headache when it wears off. She prefers a cup of tea and cucumber sandwiches of all things. Sometimes, if it's a particularly difficult episode she'll draw a bath. Lavender bath salts work best." Harry felt it was pertinent for Draco to learn how to get Hermione through her episodes.

"Why does this...why do they...how?"

"C'mon Malfoy. We fought a war. There was no bloody way any of us were going to come out unscathed. Stori has a drawer filled with chocolate for the nights I wake up screaming in a cold sweat. I spent an entire year afraid to sleep because what if my dreams weren't really my dreams and were really some remnant of Voldemort trying to make his way back. Ron drinks er drank his demons away. Hermione, well, we all know how Hermione is. She never slows down. She never takes a break. In fact, she just got back from Egypt with Bill. She's been working with the Curse-Breakers while doing research for the Aurors. Is she happy? Not in the least. I don't think even Hermione Granger knows what the hell she wants to do with her life. It's almost as if, she's terrified to stop because she might unravel."

"Why Harry Potter, that's incredibly perceptive." Astoria fingered Hermione's moppet of curls. "She has flashes of Bellatrix. They're not as brilliant as they were. She's healed a bit. She used to have these fits, episodes, whatever you'd like to call them, daily. Then it was every other day. Once a week, a few times a month, you get the point. She's never let any of us take care of her. Of course, the great Draco Malfoy swoops in and makes all these decisions and is going to be an integral part of her life. It's going to take her a bit to adjust. She doesn't know how to be anything other than who she is. Hermione Granger has always been a care-taker. Shu t up, Harry. When's the last time you've seen her do anything for her?"  
Ginny transfigured her sheet into a ridiculous looking Greek toga, with an easy smirk, tuning out the conversation around her.

"She's learning how to feel. That's a huge improvement." Ginny wandered into the guest room to find a pair of knickers and something more appropriate to wear.

"Granger doesn't...feel?"

"She doesn't like to be touched. At least, she didn't. You could be good for her Malfoy. I'll never admit I said that. I feel dirty now." Harry shoved his hands into the front pocket of his jeans, ignoring the trademark Malfoy smirk.

"I can't bloody believe I'm saying this.." Draco groaned, pulling a hand through his hair in irritation. "You lot think the best way to combat Granger's obviously harrowing episodes is to bloody Silence her?"

"Malfoy, what else is there to do? Eventually she comes out of it."

"How you managed to survive Voldemort twice is beyond me." Draco crouched beside Hermione, hissing at the collective gasp. He waved his wand, removing the Silencing Charm.

Hermione's fists were still pressed to her temple, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She rocked slightly in the chair, broken sobs escaping her plump lips.

"Bugger this." Draco placed his hands on her knees while leaning toward her. He pulled her fists into her lap, covering her hands with his own.

"You're safe." He whispered into her ear. It was difficult ignore the rise in her sobs, but he had to try. He couldn't simply stand by, watching her struggle out of the pit of darkness under a Silencing Charm.

"No one's going to hurt you, not here." Draco felt her fists relax slightly under his hands. Holding his breath, he rubbed her back from his uncomfortable position.

"She's not here. She's not here." Hermione mumbled, her sobs dissolving into shuddering hiccups.

"That's right. She's long gone." Draco maneuvered until he was directly in front of her and dropped to his knees. It was impossible for him to maintain his previous position. His body protested loudly.

"I'm in my flat." Hermione rocked forward, her curls tickling his nose. Draco grasped her head between his hands, locking her forehead against his.

"You can stay." He hated the emptiness which settled within him by simply speaking the simple words. What the fuck had happened to him?

"I'm safe. She's not here. I can stay?" Hermione's swirls of brown met pained grey orbs as her rocking ceased. Draco swallowed, closed his eyes and nodding against her forehead.

"It's been a bloody whirlwind. It's completely overwhelming. You're not alone there. I don't want to force you into something you're obviously not ready for. We've a bit of time. You can stay. We'll revisit the idea in a few weeks. Perhaps things will feel a bit different by Yule." Draco wasn't expecting warm tanned arms thrown around his neck, nor the warmth to seep into his bones by her very presence against him. He inhaled deeply, memorizing the musty scent of books, parchment and even something decidedly floral.

* * *

"What the fuck just happened?" Harry Potter watched his best friend sidle up to Draco Malfoy on her tatty sofa, explaining the telly.

Astoria kicked her husband in the shin, her blue eyes darkening in anger. She removed the concealment glamour while Hermione was indisposed and her husband had yet to notice her burgeoning girth.

"My best friend fixed your best friend you..you..twat!" Astoria stamped her foot, giving Harry a shove when he bent to rub his shin.

Harry fell onto the hardwood floor with a thump, turning to glower at his wife. His eyes immediately fell to the gentle round of her stomach.

"Stori! You've been hiding that for months? When on earth is the baby coming?" Harry scrambled to his feet, his eyes never leaving her extended abdomen.

"The beginning of March." Astoria blushed, suddenly embarrassed by keeping it from her husband. Harry reached forward, his emerald green eyes silently asking for permission. Astoria nodded, sighing as Harry's hands roved over her stomach. Their child thumped beneath his hands and she laughed when Harry jumped away from them.

"Gods. We have to move. We can't raise children in that house. There's so much to do! We're having a baby.." Harry yanked his glasses off his face, cleaning the lenses with the corner of his t shirt.

"We don't have to move today, Harry. We could renovate Grimmauld Place, or even repair your parent's home. There's time enough for that."

"No. Not Grimmauld Place. I don't want the portraits screaming about." Harry pulled his wife to him, kissing her soundly. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because you have a dissatisfying prick, Potter." Draco Malfoy called over his shoulder, winking at Astoria.

"You were never there. I didn't plan on it lasting this long, not really. I was going to tell you, but the day I found out..." Harry attempted to do mathematical equations in his head, to pinpoint the beginning of his wife's pregnancy.

"I was out on assignment. Hermione had an episode. Ron was being a wanker and Ginny was, well I don't know what she was doing but I'm sure it was something completely horrid."

"Ginny was prancing around our house in a sweater and knickers. You couldn't bloody take your eyes off her."

"Stori. You can't possibly think I still fancy Ginny. Not after all these years?" Astoria pulled out of Harry's embrace, finding Hermione's flat was entirely too small to find an empty corner with which to hide.

"You're always looking at her, Harry. You're always talking about her. What the bloody hell am I supposed to think?"

"Oh, right, well, I can understand why you'd think that." Harry scratched his head, causing his untamed dark hair to stick up. "I think I'm just amazed by how much she hasn't changed, hasn't grown up and turned into such a...tart. She was always Ron's little sister and I thought I had to look out for her and we segued into his relationship that was built upon her childhood infatuation with me and my savior complex."

"You don't wish.."

"Stop talking. You're my wife. I wouldn't have pursued you if I still held any sort of romantic feelings toward Ginny. I married you. Apparently I've been a right git, but I love you, Stori."

"Oh isn't that sweet." Draco made retching noises behind the embracing couple, trapping Hermione's hand so she was unable to smack him.

"That's the biggest fucking owl I've ever seen." Harry instinctively ducked, all the while knowing it would be impossible for great creature to swoop through Hermione's kitchen window.

"Oh, bollocks. That's Tom. Let him in eh?" Draco sauntered into the kitchen, searching through the sparse cabinets for an appropriate treat.

"Your owl's name is Tom. Tom?"

"Actually Potter, his name was Voldemort because he's fucking terrifying but Mother ordered me to change it."

"Voldemort? What the bloody hell is wrong with you Malfoy?"

"Yes, yes, my father wasn't amused as well. Sarcasm is a way of life, Potter. It's the only way I managed to survive my childhood relatively unscathed." Unconsciously, Draco tugged on the cuff of his slate blue shirt, groaning under Tom's weight on his shoulder.

"Uh, Malfoy? This is for Hermione."

"Bollocks. There's a clipping of the Daily Prophet as well. Delightful."

"Why would your mother be sending me an owl?" Hermione swept into the kitchen, no worse for wear after her morning shag and subsequent meltdown.

"To punish me obviously." Draco unfurled the roll of parchment, scoffing at the newspaper clipping:

_Redemption?_

_Death Eater turned Auror, Draco Malfoy and War Heroine Hermione Granger were spotted in Diagon Alley's hottest new restaurant Mio Luna last evening, owned by none other than Blaise and Luna Zabini._

_Anonymous sources have revealed Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger have been involved in a torrid secret love affair. Is this perhaps another ploy of the Malfoy family to win back the good graces of witches and wizards everywhere? It's a well-known fact the pureblood Malfoy's were ardent followers of You-Know-Who, escaping Azkaban only by the testimony of The-Boy-Who-Lived. While the proceedings were closed to the public, one has to wonder what delicious secrets were brought to light which completely pardoned the Malfoys' of their salacious activities.  
__  
__War Heroine Hermione Granger has been romantically linked to Viktor Krum, Ron Weasley and of course, our very own Harry Potter. Is Ms Granger fickle or is she simply seeking to make a name for herself by dating the wizarding worlds most eligible bachelors?  
__  
__Neither Ms Granger nor Mr. Malfoy were available for comment, however, Narcissa Malfoy is most pleased to announce her son's engagement to Ms Granger. Ms Malfoy has stated "Hermione Granger is a most delightful witch with an intelligence unsurpassed. She's quite lovely and our family could not be more pleased with our son's choice."  
__  
__When questioned about her future daughter-in-laws blood status, the interviewer, whom will remain nameless, was subsequently hexed, ending the interview. We at the Daily Prophet apologise to the Malfoy's for presuming Ms Granger's blood status would remain an issue in these changed times.__  
__We wish nothing but the best for Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger.__  
_  
"That woman! Harry, fetch me a jar."

"Hermione, Rita Skeeter was just doing her job and.."

"I warned her Harry!" Hermione threw the clipping into the trash bin.

"Do you know..?" Draco gestured toward Hermione's seeming madness.

"Oh, Rita Skeeter is an unregistered Animagus. Hermione stuck her in a jar for a bit years ago. Since then, Rita's barely printed a word about her, but this is newsworthy and even Rita wouldn't be able to resist the draw of it all." Astoria shrugged as the clock on the wall chimed.

"We're going to be late to Draco's half-birthday bash if you two don't get a move on. Shut it!" Astoria grabbed Harry's hand and pulled him toward the Floo.

"It's half past five already? Where did the day go?" Hermione squeaked, immediately heading into her bedroom.

"Shagging. What? Don't look at me like that. It's a bloody delightful way to spend the day." Draco pushed passed Harry and Astoria before disappearing in the green flames.

"Harry? Where is it being held? Who's idea was it for be a bloody costume party? We're not children."

"Oi. Meo-Mio. Malfoy Manor. The grounds, not the house, Theo knows better. Wear what you wore for New Years. If I'm not mistaken you got a twitch worthy snog out of it. Theo is a child which is why he's perfect for Ginny. We'll see you in a bit." Astoria shoved Harry into the Floo. While her anger was lessening, her husband knew he had his work cut out for him if he ever hoped to earn his wife's forgiveness.

* * *

"I feel ridiculous." Hermione Granger inspected herself in the floor length mirror.

The tight, white sequined dress hugged her curves while shimmering in the low light of her flat. She had decided to forego what Ginny referred to as 'fuck me boots' for a pair of white ballet flats. They were sensible and complemented her ensemble. Hermione fingered the full feathered wings before tying the white and black mask to her face. She still felt uneasy displaying her ample cleavage. Though, she reasoned, it's what she deserved for allowing Ginny Weasley to choose her costume.

She paced the length of her flat, which didn't take her but a few seconds considering the size and found herself missing the plush carpet of Draco's flat. Inwardly she cursed herself.

"It's too soon. You will not. Give yourself some time, it's ridiculous. And then you went and shagged him! After all those long talks with yourself about waiting for the right person you just...ugh!" Her reflection smirked, wiggling her eyebrows which made Hermione angrier. She rued the day she allowed Astoria talk her into a magical mirror.

"You didn't charm your hair!" Ginny burst through the front door in a slinky red dress which fell to the floor yet had a dangerously high slit up the side. Her breasts were pushed nearly to her throat, trying to enhance her cleavage to its full potential.

"You look like Jessica Rabbit."

"That's what Harry said! Who the fuck is that?!" Ginny shrieked, tapping her red stiletto.

"She's a uhm..she's a Muggle." Hermione didn't have the patience to explain the concept of cartoons and movies.

"Is she pretty?"

"She's very sexy. Theo will be appropriately impressed." This seemed to appease the fiery red head.

"Good. Now, charm your hair. Harry said to ask you if you remembered Malfoy's present from work. Why he needs a half-birthday present is beyond me. Do we all have to bring one? I certainly didn't."

"Ginny. It's a little sort of tradition between Malfoy and me. You really need to rein in that temper of yours."

"Mum says the same thing. I'm trying. Really I am, it's just everything makes me so bloody..."

"Angry. I know, Ginny. The war is over. It's ok to let go."

"I don't know how. I've been angry for so long, what if I stop being angry and I'm not anything at all?" Hermione wasn't used to seeing her friend so incredibly vulnerable.

Ginny Weasley was the fiery red head always quick to throw a Bat-Bogey Hex and kick your arse. It came with the territory of being the youngest of seven children as well as the only daughter. She didn't realise Harry and Astoria had slipped into the flat as her shoulders hunched in what looked like defeat.

"Harry used to say the same thing. 'You're too angry, Ginny. You're so aggressive.' I think that's what did us in really. Don't get me wrong, I don't want him back or anything. It's only, sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if I had been more like Astoria. She's so bloody nice. Of course he chose her. She's nothing like me. If I had a choice, I wouldn't choose me either. Theo's only in it for the sex, you know. Mum says I should have more respect for myself. She says I shouldn't just give it away." Ginny laughed bitterly, wiping her eyes angrily. "Could you imagine? The Gryffindor Slag Ends Reign of Promiscuity. I can see the headline now." Ginny scurried to Hermione's washroom under the guise of fixing her makeup.

"I'm an idiot. I never once thought her anger was a coping mechanism." Hermione was hard pressed to refrain from laughing. Harry tossed the silky strands of his long blond wig over his shoulder, pulling at the collar of his dress robes.

"Malfoy's going to kill you."

"Why?! I thought it was funny!" Harry tapped his ivory handled cane on the floor, pointing his nose in the air.

Astoria snorted. Her light blue robes hid her condition perfectly. She had magically straightened her hair, looking ever the Narcissa to Harry's Lucius.

"Meo. We have to charm your hair." Without waiting for a reply, Astoria flicked her wand with practiced ease and Hermione's brown curls transformed into dark blonde waves, kissing her waist.

* * *

"I can't believe Potter dressed as my father. He's bloody fortunate my parents declined Theo's invitation. Of course, the moment they venture into the garden, they're bound to catch a glance of Potter and Stori. I'm never going to hear the end of it." Draco Malfoy lamented in his butter-beer, wishing it was something a bit stronger but he was waiting for Hermione to arrive.

"It is quite amusing." Luna Zabini smiled knowingly as an elegantly dressed angel descended into the garden.

"Sweet Salazar. There's my mother." Draco groaned as Narcissa and Hermione spoke near the edge of the garden. They strolled down the steps together before Narcissa air kissed Hermione's cheeks. Her dark blue eyes narrowed when she caught sight of Harry Potter gyrating on the dance floor. Moments later, Harry's legs turned to jelly. He glowered at the guests furiously searching for the person who had cast the spell.

"Malfoy. Your mother wishes us to attend tea next week. Apparently we barely have enough time to properly plan a Malfoy wedding." Draco shook out his dark blue robes and adjusted the pointed hat on his head before walking in a slow circle around Hermione.

"You do realise, I kissed you in this dress. New Year's Eve, stroke of midnight. Of course, I didn't realise it was you until Potter complained about all the bloody sequins in his hair." Draco fingered a bare shoulder, nodding approvingly when she shivered.

"Dumbledore. You're bloody Dumbledore." Hermione shook her head even as he wiggled his now white and bushy eyebrows while stroking his long white beard.

"Absolutely. He got us into this mess, why not honor him properly? Also, my father's furious. Where's my present, Granger?"

"I didn't bring you a present Draco." Luna fingered her butter-beer cork necklace, wearing some obnoxiously yellow feathered concoction.

"I have it with me." Hermione smiled at Luna, pointing her in the direction of Blaise who looked like some sort of pirate. They watched Luna swirl away in a whirlwind of yellow feathers with a serene smile.

"Give it, Granger." Hermione snorted at his whine, yet lead him away from his festivities toward the soft light of the veranda.

"You were a petulant child weren't you Malfoy?" Hermione teased while reaching into her sparkling silver purse.

"You have no idea." He frowned when she pressed a small container into his waiting hands.

"I need you to trust me. Do you think you can do that?" Draco quirked his head to the side and eyed the witch warily. "I've been working on this particular formula for a few years, in my spare time."

"Formula? What the fuck did you get me, Granger?" Hermione huffed reaching for his wrist.

His immediate reaction was to withdraw from her. While he was quite an accomplished Auror, he found himself unable to completely forgive himself for taking the Dark Mark in the first place. Hermione sighed, holding his wrist firm.

"Trust me." Draco found it easier to bear if his eyes were closed. He felt his breaths becoming even, while Hermione removed the cuff links on his white dress shirt. He stiffened as she rolled up the sleeve, exposing his faded Mark. He waited for her to recoil in disgust, yet instead realised he was oddly comforted by her cool fingers tracing the dark edges.

"What are you playing at, Granger?" Draco despised the waver in his voice. He detested any moment depicting a less than perfectly composed persona.

"I doubt this will feel particularly pleasant, but the end results should be quite pleasing." A cool sort of sensation spread across his left wrist, through his Dark Mark before settling just beneath his elbow. Draco exhaled slowly in relief, as Hermione's fingers massaged the balm into his skin. He stiffened when the slow burn began. He felt as though his very skin was being eaten away. Draco panted, feeling beads of sweat dripping down his chest and the sides of his face.

"Fuck. Granger." He allowed Hermione to lead him toward a wrought iron bench against the Manor.

"Sit." Hermione pulled him down next to her while keeping an eye on his Dark Mark. It bubbled angrily beneath the salve and while she knew it was painful, she hoped it would work.

Draco's legs began to shake while he contained the pain to errant hisses and pants. He mashed his teeth together, determined to see this through. He didn't want her to see his weakness. It would be admitting he had weakness and that was simply unacceptable.

Hermione removed his hat and his half moon spectacles before he sagged into her. She laid his head in her lap, running her fingers through his hair, willing the process to hasten and his torment to end. She ignored the flush on his cheeks, the set of his jaw, the sweat on his brow and even the errant tears leaking from his closed eyes.

"Gr-Granger.."

"Shhh, it's almost done." Hermione dabbed the corner of her eyes with a handkerchief before blotting the beads of sweat on his forehead.

Draco felt a warming heat throughout his body. It was almost erotic in nature as the tingling sensation worked its way through his stiffened muscles, before escaping into the cool night air. He felt Hermione's soft fingers probing his wrist, turning it to and fro, her thumb glancing across it delicately.

"Malfoy. Open your eyes." Hermione was quite impressed with the results. She detested the time it took for the salve to do its work and its obvious pain, but she knew with effort she could adjust it properly.

Draco raised his arm over his face, rather than remove his head from Hermione's lap. He gasped. The Dark Mark wasn't completely gone; he knew that was practically an impossibility. While it had faded somewhat after Voldemort's demise, it was a blatant reminder which aided immensely in his self-loathing.

"Can you see it?" Hermione leaned toward his arm, inadvertently grazing Draco's jaw with her cleavage. Draco nodded his head, inhaling deeply.

"Barely."

"I can't see it at all. That was the purpose really. It's a permanent concealment charm to a certain extent. You'll be able to see it, but it won't be the same as it was. If I've done the calculations correctly, it should have faded significantly, but to everyone else, it won't exist." Hermione's brilliant smile, made his heart ache.

"Why did you do this, Granger?" Draco stared at her in wonder, his fingers gently touching her cheek.

"We all have darkness in us. No one's pain or even shame for that matter should be on display."


	4. The Confession

**AN: ugh. so. Ron lovers? Anyone? Anyone? Well, I don't know any but if any *do* exist it would probably be best to vacate the premises...I am *not* a Ron lover...I could easily be classified as a Ron hater...sorry not sorry.**

**However I AM sorry about double emails concerning this chapter cuz I accidentally uploaded the wrong chapter and had to rectify it. I'm sure you understand my lovelies.**

* * *

Chapter 4 - The Confession

"I hate her. I bloody hate her, Potter."

"No, you don't." Harry sighed, rubbing his scar.

"I could!" Draco huffed pacing the length of Harry Potter's office.

"If you hate her maybe you shouldn't have stolen my girlfriend, ferret!"

"No one's speaking to you, Weasel. You don't even work here. Go home."

"You don't tell me what to do!"

"Someone obviously had too. Your mummy let you dress yourself today?"

"She lets me dress myself every day!"

* * *

As much as Draco Malfoy detested admitting it, even to himself, he had missed the bloody overbearing Gryffindor. It had been almost two weeks since he'd last seen her, spoken to her. He knew she had been completely overwhelmed by well, everything, but he thought if they spent a bit of time together, they'd suss it out. However, the day after Draco's half-birthday party, Hermione received an owl which had altered all of his carefully laid plans.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy. Where is Ms Granger? Mr. Weasley, why are you here?" Kingsley Shacklebolt interrupted yet another argument between Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley. It wasn't the first time that week and considering the way things were going, it wouldn't be the last.

"George told me to get out. I blew up..." Ron mumbled the last few words causing them to be lost amongst the collective gasps.

"Mr. Weasley, that's quite unfortunate for you, get out before Mr. Malfoy hexes you into oblivion." Kingsley Shacklebolt gestured toward the open door with the air of authority befitting the Minister for Magic.

"He gets to stay!" Ron stood suddenly, gesturing wildly toward an anxious Draco Malfoy and a disgruntled Harry Potter.

"As Mr Potter's partner and Ms Granger's fiancé, it is quite imperative he remain. You however are not an integral part of this investigation. Stop throwing a fit, Weasley or I'll have your father escort you from the premises." Ron flushed furiously, yet strode from the room without further preamble.

"Minister Shacklebolt, Hermione's been on assignment, why would you think she'd be here?" Harry stood, yanking the hem of his red plaid shirt over the top of his black jeans.

Kingsley tore the small round purple hat off his head and crumpled it in his hands.  
"She missed her Portkey." He sighed deeply, waiting for the angry outbursts from the wizards before him. Instead, he squirmed, uncomfortable with the eerie silence.

"How late is she?" Harry shoved away from his desk with a furrow of his brows, intently studying the lines in the Minister's face.

"She should have reported in yesterday."

"Portkey from where?" Kingsley raised his dark eyes to meet the flickering rage in pools of grey.

"Egypt. Bill asked her for a bit of help on a particularly difficult tomb he's been working. You well know she's one of the best when it comes to obscure information."

"Is that where she's been then?" Harry held up his hand to stop Draco from interrupting the Minister, which was ignored.

"I haven't a bloody clue! She got an owl, told me she'd be back in a few days and left. That was almost a bloody fortnight ago. It's almost Yule! You get her back!" Draco didn't care if he was shouting at the Minister.

Harry's brow furrowed at Draco's outburst. As well as the two of them worked together, outside the office their relationship was difficult at best. For Harry to see Draco Malfoy rumpled, flushed and agitated due to the absence of Hermione Granger was quite disconcerting.

A loud thump and groan caused his mouth to gape at the sight behind the Minister. Hermione Granger, covered in sand, was almost unrecognizable. Her light blue Muggle jeans were torn at the seams, split almost completely up one side. Her faded green t shirt was missing one of its sleeves and she was missing a shoe. Hermione coughed hard, hacking up what looked like bits of dirt onto the black tile.

Draco Malfoy was at her side immediately, conjuring a glass of water and pressing it into her filthy hands. He pulled a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his blazer, wetting it slightly and wiped the dirt from her face. She sagged against him, her chest heaving as she guzzled down the offered water.

"Th-there's been...another." Hermione pushed unruly sweat encrusted curls off her forehead, her brown eyes narrowing meaningfully at the Minister.

"You'll need to be debriefed immediately, Ms Granger." Kingsley cast furtive glances at Harry and Draco, striding quickly for the door.

"No fucking way." Kingsley stopped, prepared to put Draco Malfoy in his place. "Look at her! She's a bloody mess. I'm taking her home. She needs a bath, a warm meal and a good night's sleep. She can bloody well debrief you tomorrow." Draco snarled, daring the Minister to refute him.

"Malfoy." Hermione sighed, still pressed to Draco's side on the hard tile floor. "It's important. This is no time to be selfish..."

"Granger. I'm a selfish man. I haven't seen you in weeks. Not even an owl. You missed your Portkey and show up looking quite a fright. You take care of everyone else and that's fine. It's my job to take care of you." Draco didn't wait for the Minister to remind him of the importance of an immediate debrief. He didn't wait for Harry Potter to hem and haw and try to placate everyone. Instead, he reached into his back pocket, withdrew his wand and Disapparated them.

"Well. It seems Mr. Malfoy has become quite attached to his fiancée. I suppose Dumbledore knew exactly what he was doing." Kingsley Shacklebolt stroked the black stubble on his dark face with a frown.

"Er, Minister? Where's Bill?" Harry scratched his head, wishing he had remained home in his warm bed with his wife.

* * *

"Malfoy! Bring me back! You have to bring me back!" Hermione shrieked in the thirteenth floor foyer.  
Draco ignored her, picked her up from the floor roughly and tossed her over his shoulder. With swift determination, completely ignoring her shouts of protest, he opened the door to his flat unceremoniously. He strode through the flat, directly into the washroom. Draco snatched Hermione's wand from the back pocket of her faded jeans before allowing her feet to slide to the floor.

"Bath, Granger." Draco turned on the taps, dumping copious amounts of bath salts and scented oils into the steaming water.

Hermione crossed her arms furiously, a cloud of grime rising from her tatty t shirt. She coughed, pointedly ignoring the swirls of dust.

"Malfoy!"

"Granger. If you're not going to bloody take care of yourself, I'm going to do it for you. Now get in the blasted bath!" Hermione knew he was right. She hadn't slept properly in days. She couldn't remember the last time she had a meal. She barely escaped the collapsing tunnel when Bill…

"Malfoy, at least let me send an owl. The tunnel collapsed. Bill shoved me and if he hadn't Naj wouldn't have been there and I wouldn't be here. Kingsley's got to send a team!" Draco arched an eyebrow, eyeing her warily.

"Send a patronus." Hermione growled, yet Draco had a point. Sending a patronus was much faster than an owl.

"You have my wand!" Reluctantly Draco held out Hermione's wand, gripping his own tightly with narrowed eyes.

Hermione fingered it lightly with a slight smile.

"Expecto Patronum!" Draco watched in awe as a light riddled otter floated around his washroom. Hermione whispered a few words and Draco's mouth dropped open as it fluttered quickly away.

"Bathe." Hermione stamped her foot, wincing as a sharp pain shot from her heel up the back of her calf.  
Draco eased Hermione backward until she was sitting on the edge of the bath tub. He knelt at her feet, carefully removing her heavy hiking boots. She whimpered when he manipulated her ankle to remove her grimy socks.

"You're a right mess." Hermione wanted to remain angry with his presumptions, but she couldn't. As much as she hated to admit it, there was an underlying inflection in his words. For a moment, it almost felt as if he cared about her. She allowed him to tug the remnants of her shirt over her head and peel her grungy jeans down her legs. He gasped spying the smattering of bruises in various shades of healing.

"It's not as bad as it looks, really." Hermione smiled quickly, swallowing at the darkening of his eyes.

"You missed tea with my mother. She was quite put out, which made me quite put out considering all the swatches I had to wade through in your absence. Father on the other hand found it incredibly delightful." Draco chose to sidestep the impending argument which would occur if he commented on her multitude of bruises.

"Merlin, Malfoy, I completely forgot. Didn't even have owl service where we were." Hermione was suddenly self conscious, sitting on the edge of the tub, wearing nothing but her white bra and nondescript white knickers.

"At least there's a reason you were completely incommunicado. Come on then. No need to be shy, Granger. I have seen you naked." Draco spun Hermione toward the waiting water. Casually, he stuck his forefinger into the small hole in the side of Hermione's knickers and gave it a bit of a yank.

"Malfoy!"

"Ugh, Granger. It's completely unbefitting for a Malfoy to allow such rags to even touch the skin. I'm removing your tatty knickers and that pathetic thing you'd call a bra and tossing them straight into the bin."

"I'm not a Malfoy. I'm a Granger." Hermione crossed her arms, even as Draco unclasped her bra and drew it down her shoulders.

He sighed, gritting his teeth. He didn't want to argue with her. He didn't want to point out the fact they were to be married in less than a fortnight. Draco wet Hermione's hair before lathering it with her floral shampoo. She relaxed against the side of the tub as his nimble fingers massaged her scalp. While her eyes were closed, Draco vanished her grimy bra with a small smirk. Hermione sunk further into the water with a small smile.

"Better?" Draco's thumbs worked out the tight knots in Hermione's neck and shoulders. The tiny mews, her parted lips, the pink flush on her cheeks were giving Draco a bit of an issue.

"Bloody delightful. Why are you doing this, Malfoy? It's not as if, we're..I mean we've never been...and now we've...and I'm just..."

"Granger. I realise you're used to speaking in your magic little language specially formulated for boys with scar heads, however, I'm not a bloody member of that particular club. Complete sentences perhaps?" Draco rinsed Hermione's hair, using a glass he summoned from the kitchen.

"We're not really friends are we? We've fought for most of our lives. We get along relatively well now of course and while working, but our paths do not cross often. Now we've been completely thrust into this arrangement for lack of a better term and it's a bit overwhelming really. We've gone on one date which ended in a completely unexpected..."

"Bloody fantastic, really. What's the problem Granger? Are we really back to you wishing I was a complete arse? Would you prefer if I threw a bit of a tantrum? Would that make you feel more at ease? Personally, I've outgrown such things, unless Weasel is involved. I still bloody despise that tosser. I make no apologies for it either. Is it going to be easy? Knowing us? Definitely not. Yet, it doesn't have to be as difficult as you think it should. Take it as it comes eh? Lean up yea? I want to wash your back." Hermione realised she couldn't refute Draco's words.

He had a point. She knew it was something they had discussed or rather it had been brought to the forefront in the heat of an argument, but she couldn't help revisiting such ideas. He is Draco Malfoy, former-death-eater-turned-Auror and she is Hermione Granger, Golden Girl Extraordinaire.

She thought accepting Bill's invitation would help clear her muddled thoughts, but it hadn't. In fact, it had the opposite effect. As she had found herself surrounded by awe-inspiring hieroglyphs, leading towards magically protected tombs, her thoughts had continuously strayed to the pages and pages of runes on Draco's table.

"Did you make any headway with those notes I left?" Hermione decided her best course of action was to change the subject toward something they were both incredibly passionate.

"Well, er, you're not an Auror...and.."

"Malfoy! I'm a Specialist!" Draco felt Hermione's back tense beneath his fingers and sighed.

Instead of adding fuel to the fire known as Granger, he poured liberal amounts of what he assumed was some sort of conditioner on her sopping tangled curls. He reveled in the sound of soft sighs and light moans before giving her a thorough rinse.

"No one's ever done that for me before." Hermione pulled the plug on the tub with her eyes closed, trying to conjure a childhood memory which didn't exist.

"Not even your mum?" Draco was surprised. He always thought Hermione had the sort of childhood he'd envied with copious amounts of hugging and entirely too many kisses. He wasn't able to quantify the feelings which rose in him upon discovering such things weren't true.

"I can't remember a time when she ever..." Hermione stopped suddenly, drawing a shuddered breath.

She didn't want to think about her parents. She didn't want to think of all the things they were missing. She didn't want to think about her inability to properly remove the Charm. She didn't want to think about anything, other than the plush towel Draco Malfoy was wrapping around her.

"Your foot is purple." He didn't wait for Hermione to tell him she was fine.

He gathered her in his arms, carrying her directly to his bed. Hermione clutched the towel to her chest, uncomfortable with the fuss. Draco left the room abruptly returning with various amber bottles and tins. Dutifully she opened her mouth when prodded, allowing him to pour a healing potion into her drained body. She winced as he massaged a particularly potent salve into the dark bruises on her ankle and the top of her foot.

"Oh that's lovely." Draco smirked before handing her a pair of fluffy pale blue pants and a short sleeve shirt.

"Stay right there, Granger. I'll bring you a spot of tea and then you're going to sleep." Hermione huffed, yet slipped into the outfit the moment Draco left the room.

She was thankful he had slipped a pair of knickers between the folds of the pants. She frowned while fingering the texture, not recognising the clothes

"Granger. They're new, remember? The bloody closet is filled with new purchases. Stop thinking so badly of me." Hermione had the grace to blush.

"I didn't mean..."

"Yes, you did. It's fine. Come on then, under the covers with you. Drink your tea. I'm sure Potter and Stori will be 'round later and that Weasel girl as well."

"Ginny." Hermione smiled lightly, sipping the piping hot tea. Her tired brown eyes widened upon tasting the tea. "You..remembered how I take my tea?"

"Of course. Attention to detail is nothing if not an admirable Malfoy quality." She rolled her eyes as his pompous attitude made its regular appearance. She felt her eyes drooping, his fingers brushing against hers as he took the cup from her. Hermione sighed as warm lips pressed against her forehead before succumbing to the exhaustion.

* * *

"No. Absolutely not. She's sleeping. I won't wake her."

"Malfoy. You're being completely unreasonable. Hermione would want to know Bill was found and pretty unscathed for being underneath a bunch of rubble." Harry Potter impatiently paced Draco's flat with irritation.

Draco was being completely unreasonable, according to Harry. Harry knew Hermione would be angry. She would be absolutely furious to discover she hadn't been told the very moment Bill Weasley was yanked from the cursed tomb. She'd be wondering how Naj was faring. Hell, Hermione would probably wish to owl Charlie at her earliest convenience as well. Draco Malfoy simply didn't understand the way Hermione worked and it was up to him to inform Malfoy, at least that's what he believed.

Hermione rubbed the remnants of sleep from her eyes wondering why she had woken. The draperies were drawn, yet she knew it was the middle of the night. The sound of raised voices made her climb from the warm confines of Draco's bed and pad slowly to the door.

Her foot was still bruised but the swelling had gone down. She tested her weight on it and sighed. It still hurt, but she hobbled on it anyway.

"Malfoy?" Draco spun on his heel with a scowl. He had been hoping stupid Harry Potter would stop shouting in his flat so Hermione could sleep.

"You shouldn't be walking on that. You shouldn't be awake. You see what you've done Potter?" Harry rubbed his scar guiltily.

It was obvious Hermione was a bit of a mess. If the dark circles beneath her eyes weren't enough proof, the decidedly purple bruise decorating her ankle and her inability to bear her own weight spoke volumes.  
Hermione gasped, her arms instinctively wrapping around Draco's neck when he lifted her into his arms. He settled onto the sofa, holding Hermione on his lap, instead of placing her beside him as she had expected. She curled her feet against his thigh and waited for Harry to explain.

"Er..uh..Hermione. Sorry. I wanted to wake you, but Malfoy here thought it could wait til the morning." Harry had always felt a bit uneasy when faced with the narrowing of Hermione Granger's eyes in his direction.

"I'm assuming Bill was found then?" Hermione's head drooped, her forehead resting against the side of Draco's neck, his hand rubbing circles on her back.

"Well yeah, sending that patronus was bloody brilliant. Bill's fine and.."

"You thought it would be brilliant to wake me up to tell me everything is fine. Go home, Harry. Send Charlie an owl for me, tell him I'm fine and I'll see him at The Burrow." Hermione's eyes closed thereby dismissing Harry.

"See, Potter. It was unnecessary to wake her. She knew everything would be fine. She's Granger, she knows everything. Get out." Draco picked up Hermione once again and placed her back in his bed.

He climbed in beside her, hoping Harry had left and pulled the blankets over them. Draco listened to the soft sounds of Hermione's steady breathing, mixed with little sighs and closed his eyes. 

* * *

When Hermione woke, she felt as if she were being suffocated. There was a heavy presence on her chest, her legs were pinned and it felt as if she'd never draw a complete breath again. She opened her eyes and spied platinum blonde hair spread across her chest. Draco's head rested on her breast with an arm wrapped tightly around her waist. One of his legs was tossed casually across hers, pinning her efficiently. Hermione tried to extricate herself, but every time she moved, he tightened his hold.

"Malfoy." She fingered the ends of his hair, wondering how it stayed so soft. "Malfoy, you've got to move."

"Too early, love." Draco mumbled into her shirt, his words muffled against the rise of her breast.

For a moment she thought she heard him incorrectly. Perhaps it was something he said to all of his conquests. He moaned, snuggling into her side. Hermione snickered, wondering if Draco Malfoy knew about his sleep cuddling tendencies.

"MALFOY!" The incessant pounding on the front door startled him, his grey eyes opening, as his breath quickened.

He took in his surroundings and his position on the bed and smirked. Draco kissed Hermione quickly on the lips and leapt from the bed. He slipped on a pair of nondescript lounge pants.

Inwardly he grumbled at the intrusive voice. He was quite enjoying the feel of Hermione beneath him, her fingers in his hair, her breast pressed against his cheek. His Malfoy pride was bellowing in ire, screaming epithets of blood purity and upholding his family name as he pulled open the door to his flat. His grey eyes narrowed instantly, his eyebrows rising into the organised chaos of his platinum locks.

"Harry told me you wanker! She doesn't love you. She'll never love you. She knows exactly what you are! You tricked her. She'll see. I'll make her see. She loves me. She'll always love me. Where is she?" Ron Weasley, in the most hideously striped sweater Draco Malfoy had ever seen burst through the door. He shoved Draco during his misinformed rant, wild eyes searching every inch of the open space.

"Weasel. She's in bed. Why are you here? Who gave you the location of our flat?" Draco knew Hermione hadn't agreed to move into the flat, yet but he knew it would irk Ron to the brink of insanity to refer to the flat as theirs.

"Bed? Whose bed? Harry told me of course. I'm here to rescue her!" Ron drew his wand, wobbling on his feet slightly. It was in that moment, Draco knew, Ron Weasley had fallen off the wagon.

"Weasel. You're drunk. Go home." He was thankful Hermione had remained in the bedroom. Draco wandered over toward the Floo, nonchalantly placing a Floo Call to the Potters.

"Oi! Potter. Weasel's here." Draco ended the call quickly in order to physically bar Ron Weasley from entering his bedroom.

"I love her. I'll always love her. She was made just for me, Malfoy. You fucking ferret. You don't appreciate her. You should be in Azkaban." Draco grit his teeth, allowing Ron to stumble about in a barely coherent stupor.

"Weasel." Draco found himself angered by Ron's proclamations, though he didn't completely understand why. He was loathe to admit he was fond of Hermione, however the idea that Ron Weasley was Hermione Granger's perfect match made his stomach roll with utter distaste.

"Shup, ferret! You don't know! You don't know a thing. You know.." Ron fell into the back of the sofa with an inappropriate giggle.

He reached into the pocket of his cloak, withdrawing a half empty bottle of firewhiskey and took a long drought. Ron pointed his finger at the dual Draco Malfoy's wavering in his watery vision and laughed. Draco crossed his arms, willing Harry Potter to get his arse to the flat before he hexed the bugger.

"What now?"

"You know, Mione is a fucking prude. Even if you do marry her? She won't fuck you. Bet she diddle's herself over the latest edition of Hogwarts: A History before she lets you climb between her frigid legs." Ron threw his head back with a raucous laugh, missing the glint of rage in the wizard before him.

"Malfoy? What is he doing here?" Draco cringed as Hermione's soft yet broken voice cascaded over his shoulder.

Draco subtly shifted to his left, blocking Ron's vision. He retreated from Ron slowly, until he felt Hermione's palm on his back.

"Potter should be here shortly." The roar of the green flames echoing in the Floo as Harry Potter stepped out eased the tension.

Hermione peeked around Draco's shoulder, her cheek brushing his arm to catch a glance of her friend. She barely remembered their impromptu conversation earlier that evening, yet taking in Ron's disheveled form was a bit of a shock. Harry nodded curtly toward Draco and Hermione, his green eyes never leaving the rising rage of Ron Weasley.

Ron had discarded his sweater after finishing the bottle of firewhisky, spinning in circles in a white, sweaty undershirt.

"There's the dirty little bitch! Bet she missed me! Used to moon over me you know. Yes, yes she did! She's not very smart for being called the brightest is she? Terrible hair, awful teeth in those days and a bit of a bitch. Not much has changed really, well the teeth. Hey! Thanks for that Malfoy. Bet you're thanking your stars now aren't you? Wouldn't want those nasty beaver teeth surrounding your cock now would ya?" Ron cackled before tossing the empty bottle at the wall, frowning when it didn't shatter.

"Ron, what are you doing? What happened, mate?" Harry held out his empty hands, entreating Ron to look at him.

"Oh if it isn't famous Harry Potter! Harry fucked my baby sister. Did ya know? Spose everyone knows now that she's a horrid little slag."

"Ron, c'mon mate. Let's get you out of here." Harry shuffled his feet, unsuccessfully trying to diffuse the volatile situation.

It hadn't escaped his attention how Hermione shook slightly behind Draco, nor her hand on the small of his back. It was strange to see them interact without hexes being thrown and Harry wasn't sure how he felt about it. He appreciated Draco's silence. Harry knew as unstable as Ron was, a single word from Draco Malfoy could make a difficult situation that much worse.

Harry cringed while watching Hermione's knees begin to shudder. He knew it was a matter of moments before they gave out from under her. Whether it was from Ron's presence or the harrowing experience in Egypt was a question Harry couldn't answer. Keeping his eyes on a stumbling Ron, he sighed and withdrew his wand from his back pocket.

Ron kicked off his worn brown loafers groaning and thrusting into the air upon the feel of the luxurious carpet beneath his freckled feet. He waved his wand about his head as if he were directing an orchestra of silent musicians.

"Accio firewhisky." Ron sang, giggling with glee as a full bottle landed in his outstretched hand.

"Ron, I think you've had enough, yeah?" Draco rolled his eyes at Harry's obvious statement. He was seriously reconsidering the invitation he'd extended to Harry if this was the result.

"Harry. I just wanted to see the little bitch. She's such a fucking tease. Didn't you try and fuck her in that tent? I mean, if she won't fuck The Boy Who Bloody Lived, she'd never fuck Malfoy." Harry truly expected Hermione to collapse. He'd witnessed years of Ron Weasley's abusive drinking patterns and it had never ceased to amaze him how the incredibly strong witch he'd grown up beside had crumbled.

"Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!" Draco crossed his arms over his bare chest and smirked. Harry gaped at him, prepared to shout at his partner to find Hermione's wand pointing at Ron, fury in her dark brown eyes.

"Harry. Get him out of here, before I do something I won't regret." Hermione knew it was out of character for her to react so swiftly.

She was the level headed one. She was the one who was always berating the boys for rushing into the fray without a carefully laid plan. She was always reprimanding them for letting their anger get the best of any situation and yet that's exactly what she had done. Hermione realised it felt good. It felt really good. She understood Harry in that moment. Sometimes, it was perfectly acceptable to go with one's 'gut' instead of sifting through each logical scenario.

Hermione Granger was tired of allowing herself to be Ronald Weasley's whipping boy. She didn't deserve to bear the brunt of his misplaced anger. She didn't deserve to be verbally and physically abused. She cringed, reminding herself to never speak of the physical abuse. It made her feel weak. Hermione knew she was brighter than the average witch and for her to succumb, for her to stay with a man who had never truly known her or even respected her, made her feel shame.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek while Hermione sidled around him to glare at a wide eyed, furious, Ron Weasley. He knew her mind was churning, over thinking every moment she ever wasted on the Weasel and he knew he couldn't stop her. Draco always believed Ron Weasley was beneath her. He was well aware of a time when he believed Hermione to be beneath him as well, but those days were long gone. He knew she was absolutely brilliant and it was a joy to watch her work, which he did more often than he'd ever admit. He breathed a sigh of relief when their relationship had fallen apart, dreading the moment Ron would grovel, beg and plead for Hermione to forgive him.

"Mione uhm.." Harry pulled his round, wire rimmed glasses off his face, cleaning them quickly on his shirt.

"No, Harry. Don't you dare." Draco draped his arm across Hermione's shoulders, gently pulling her forward to face her best mate.

"He was trying. He was doing well. The whole engagement thing just.."

"Don't make excuses for him! How dare you!"

"Potter," Draco interjected, "Weasel said you told him..." He let the fragment hang in the air, eyebrows arched in silent question.

"I didn't mean too! It's just, he's my best mate and Stori and I were having a spot of tea. Ron just came through the Floo and we didn't hear him and he overheard and well..." Harry appealed to Hermione, but found himself shrinking from the flush of her cheeks and the low growl in her throat.

"Potter. Shacklebolt is going to suspend you. We signed confidentiality agreements for a reason. Wouldn't surprise me in the least if he altered the Weasel's memory as well. What the fuck were you thinking? Telling Stori?"

"I know alright! Shacklebolt sent me a bloody howler! I had to Obliviate my own wife! I fucked up. It happens, Malfoy! I'm sorry, for what it's worth. Stori was absolutely furious with me. She quite liked the idea of some sordid secret love affair. It's just, Ron was my first friend and I thought.."

"No, Potter. You didn't think. You weren't concerned about how that ruddy bastard would lash out at one of your oldest friends. You were feeling sorry for yourself for having to keep a bloody secret. Poor fucking you. Take your pathetic Weasel and get the fuck out of my house." Draco seethed, his arm tightening around Hermione, who nodded in agreement before they whisked back into the bedroom.

The moment the door to the flat shut, signaling Harry and Ron's departure, they breathed collective a sigh of relief. Draco leaned against the door while Hermione stood a few feet away from him studying his relaxed form.

She had seen him at the Ministry for years, casting furtive glances but she had never really studied him. She'd never seen him without clothes for that matter, which brought a light blush to her cheeks. Draco resisted the urge to smile knowingly, allowing her eyes to rove over him. She took in the taut muscles of his abdomen; the light scarring across his chest which she guessed was the remnants of Harry's idiocy.

"Like what you see, Granger?" Draco couldn't resist the barely concealed barb. Hermione's dark eyes raised to meet his and her breath caught in her throat. She hated to admit it, but Merlin he was beautiful.

Ron's disparaging words ran through her head, leaving pangs of pain in their wake. She wanted to blot him out of her existence. She wanted to forget every horrid thing Ronald Weasley had ever said or done to her during the course of their rocky relationship. She took a tentative step forward as Draco pushed off the door.

She studied the darkening of his grey eyes, the rapid breaths constricting his chest and without further thought; she reached forward and drew his head down to hers. Her lips were so soft, yet tasted of salty tears. Her movements tentative, her inexperience shining through and Draco allowed himself to be lost in the moment. He responded slowly, allowing her to set the pace until clarity returned and he retreated from her.

"Granger, stop. This isn't the way. You don't want to do this, not really." It pained him to admit such things. It pained him to be so bloody noble. He knew Harry would never let him hear the end of it, chalk it up to some latent Gryffindor quality but he couldn't let Hermione drown her sorrow in him.

"You slept with me." The accusation burst forth, laced with anger and hurt between droplets of tears seeping from red rimmed eyes.

"I shouldn't have, not really. I.." Draco hung his head, closing his eyes to hide from the flash of pain flickering in Hermione's brown eyes.

"You don't want me? You...didn't want me?"

"Gods, Granger. That's not it at all. You're so bloody infuriating. Your lack of self worth is completely astounding. You don't want me. Not really. I'm not a completely heartless bastard. It would be easy to kiss away your tears and murmur sweet nothings until I make you scream my name. I would do it in a fucking heartbeat if you meant absolutely nothing. I can't though. I can't, Granger. I can't treat the woman who's to be my wife as if she were worth nothing more than an easy slag. I won't let you bury yourself in me because Weasel is the worst sort of wizard and I don't want you thinking of him while you're lying with me." Draco never saw the wonder on her face and the acceptance of his words.

He spun on his heel and left his bedroom without another word. He didn't know if she was going to respond and he had decided he didn't want to hear her apologies. For some reason, it hurt his pride to admit he knew she didn't want him. Draco thoroughly despised Ronald Weasley for ruining what could have been an enjoyable evening. Instead he pulled a few blankets and pillows from the hall closet and settled on sofa with a groan of frustration.

* * *

"You turned her down? You expect me to believe Draco Malfoy turned down a shag from a willing witch in his bedroom no less?" Draco was regretting the moment he ever befriended Blaise Zabini.

It had only been a few days since Hermione had returned from Egypt and the tension was palpable. Draco had slipped away mumbling something about an important business lunch while Hermione poured over parchment.

"She was upset alright? Fucking Weasel was making a bit of a ruckus; Potter had to come sort it out. Hermione hexed the bastard. She's mighty quick with her wand work. The things he was saying mate..." Draco swirled his spoon in his bowl of creamy soup, shoving the tiny bobbing peas to the side.

"Well, it's obvious you care about her. I mean, you wouldn't have popped the question in the middle of my bloody restaurant if she was just another bint." Blaise sopped up the remnants of his bowl with a crusty piece of bread, waving his glass of wine. "It's admirable you know. She'll be a bit put out of course; you did reject her, but eventually? Granger's a smart witch. She'll be embarrassed, apologise and then she'll shag you which is what you really want anyway. I can't say I understand your strange little relationship. There's something you're not telling me, but I'll let it go for now. Luna says I'm too inquisitive for my own good. We should get the girls together for dinner or something."

"Can't believe you married Loony Lovegood." Draco chuckled, grimacing at the low quality of red wine swirling across his taste buds.

"Oi! Don't call her that! You're marrying Gryffindor Granger." Blaise smirked as Draco sputtered.

"Potter got suspended." Draco eyed Blaise warily, changing the subject.

"Good. He's a ponce. Happy Christmas to you. I don't know how you stand him."

"He's not a bad bloke. He has his moments of course but sometimes I question his loyalty. He's a terrible gossip as well, which is probably what makes him perfect for Stori."

"Astoria Greengrass is a Potter. Hermione Granger is a couple weeks away from becoming a Malfoy. What is the world coming too?" Blaise guffawed, suddenly choking as a whirlwind of curly brown hair scurried past the restaurant window.

"Malfoy. Sorry. Hi, Blaise. Malfoy." Hermione gasped, hiding behind the topiary beside Blaise.

"Granger? What are you doing?" Draco took in her disheveled appearance, her heaving chest and even the ink stains on her fingertips with a frown.

"Your mother. I'm hiding from your mother. She's bloody terrifying!" Hermione crouched between the pillar and the topiary as the tall blonde woman peered into the picture window with a scowl.

"Bollocks. She's angry. Blaise, be a good friend and distract her would you?" Draco reached down, grasping Hermione's hand into his own before dragging her through the lunch crowd, toward the facilities.

"Where are we going? We can't go home. I've just come from there." Draco ignored her incessant questions while enclosing her in his arms. Hermione squealed before she squeezed her eyes shut while the tug of Apparition coursed through her.

"You could have given me some warning!" Hermione shouted, slapping Draco's chest and arms.

"Malfoy? Hermione?" Harry Potter peered out his front door quizzically.

"Oi. Potter. Put on some fucking clothes you deviant. Blaise is in Diagon Alley. The café near the new build. Go meet him there and pretend you were having lunch with him. Don't ask questions, just go. You owe me." Harry nodded and shrugged on his wizarding robes before Apparating.

"Why is Narcissa sending me a Howler?!" Astoria bellowed the moment Hermione and Draco stepped foot into the house.

"Merlin, Stori, you're bloody huge!" Draco dodged the hex flying toward him with a chuckle.

"Malfoy, you're obnoxious. Sorry, Stori. Narcissa showed up completely unannounced at the flat with house elves carrying bloody armloads of swatches and prattling about china patterns and wedding dresses. She berated me for missing tea, completely disregarding the fact I was on a mission for the Ministry and threatened to bind me until the wedding plans were complete. I asked if I could use the loo first and got the fuck out of there." Hermione gasped, completely out of breath, before flouncing onto a hideous plaid settee. Draco sat beside her, covering her shaking hands with his own.

"I'm too pregnant for this. I'm a bloody house. I can't believe you left. I can't believe you don't have a dress. While I'm being honest, I can't believe you weren't going to fucking tell me about your debt to Dumbledore." Astoria lowered herself onto an oversized armchair slowly, glaring at the couple.  
Hermione's eyes flitted about the cluttered room, avoiding Astoria's glower which Draco's cheeks tinted pink at the reprimand.

"You weren't supposed to know about that." Draco mumbled.

"I bloody know! Shacklebolt wanted me OBLIVIATED! Harry swore he did, but you know Harry. You're both utter tossers. Oh don't look at me like that. I'm the size of a house and hormonal. Draco Malfoy, I'm angry with you. Hermione Granger, I'm not thrilled with you either. Ridiculous."

"What did I do?!" Draco was immediately indignant even as Hermione snorted. She wandered into the modest kitchen to put the kettle on. It was obvious they'd need a spot of tea when it came to an angry Astoria.

"You haven't told her you fancy her, have you?" Astoria hissed, leaning as far forward as her burgeoning stomach would allow.

"Stori! How did you..Why would you...I can't believe.." Astoria rolled her eyes. She lifted her swollen ankles onto the striped ottoman and rested her small hands on her stomach.

"Harry didn't say a word. It was obvious he knew. Wouldn't even discuss the two of you, to my utter and complete frustration. We've been friends for years, Draco. Hell, we almost got married. What a disaster that would have been. I sat beside you the night you received the Dark Mark, hating yourself. The least you could do is tell me the truth. How long, Draco? Quick, before she comes back with the tea." Astoria ignored a blushing Hermione leaning against cupboard, just out of Draco's line of sight.

Draco's fingers raked through his mussed hair with a groan of irritation. He hated Astoria, not truly of course, but he detested the way she could delve into his secrets without a second thought.

"She's all broken, Stori.."

"I'm aware, Draco. That's what happens when you spend bloody years putting up with the likes of Ron Weasley. Don't change the subject. How long? Second year? Though, I don't see a petrified Hermione as being attractive. Third year? Don't tell me it was the slap which did you in. Fourth year? I've heard fantastic things about the Yule ball. I could keep going.."

"Stori, please."

"No, Draco. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. If I'm going to watch you marry my husband's best friend, I want to know." Draco buried his face in his hands, knowing he wouldn't deny her request. If it wasn't for Astoria's demanding stubbornness, their betrothal agreement would have gone through without a hitch and they'd be miserable.

"It's always been a love hate sort of thing, Stori. Shut up. Fine. First year alright? Are you happy now? We were all walking into the Great Hall to be Sorted and everyone was staring about wondering how they managed to charm the bloody ceiling. She knew the answer. I mean, I knew the answer but you have to remember, my friends were Crabbe and Goyle. They could never have been accused of brilliance. So when she was talking about reading it in Hogwarts: A History and the other first years didn't even know what the fuck she was talking about...I mean, of course she was Sorted into Gryffindor and that ruined even the idea of getting to know her.

'You remember what my father was like in those days. It was just little things over the years. I tried not to think about her, but she was always bloody there. Have you seen her angry? Gods, she's bloody gorgeous and she doesn't even know it! She wasted her time mooning over fucking Weasley. Not even the smart one. I mean, I assume there has to be a smart one, they can't all be blithering idiots, but he never noticed her. He never appreciated her. He never thought of her as a girl, a woman, until all his other options disintegrated. He never deserved her. I hated him then. I hate him more now. She was a beautiful, fiery, talented, fucking brilliant witch and he broke her."

Hermione choked on her strangled sob, turning back into the kitchen. She splashed cool water on her face before setting up the tea tray and drawing a shuddering breath. She wondered how her sworn childhood enemy could speak of her with such tenderness when one of her best friends seemed to despise her very existence.

"Here we are then." Hermione bustled into the living room, laden with a tea platter and false cheerfulness.

Astoria excused herself for a moment, mumbling about the excessive number of times a pregnant witch must visit the loo, while Hermione poured the tea. She set Draco's cup before him, adding his customary two lumps of sugar and a dollop of cream before tending her own. In a moment of spontaneity, Hermione kissed his cheek and smiled.

"Thank you." Draco tilted his head to the side, taking in her shiny eyes and light blush. "Thank you for the other night. Thank you for rescuing me from your mother. Thank you for not being a complete arse as far as the wedding and whatnot." Hermione reached for her china tea cup, but found her face in Draco's hands, his fingers raising her chin until she met the grey eyes, flecked with blue.

"You're going to be the end of me." Draco whispered, pressing his forehead against hers, breathing in the familiar scent he'd come to know as simply Hermione.

He leaned toward her, their lips a hair's breadth apart when he stopped. Hermione stared up at him, her lips parted, her heart pounding in her chest and closed the distance between them without another thought. Hermione's hand rose to his chest, covering his heart with the lightest touch. Draco truly had intended to keep the kiss light and chaste, until she drew his bottom lip into her mouth. He groaned, his hands sliding down her arms, fingers digging into her hips as he pulled her against him. Her arms wound around his neck eagerly, even as his fingers slid up the back of her blouse. Hermione sighed against his lips, her eyes fluttering shut at the feel of his hands on her skin.

"Oi! Stop it! There's no snogging during tea! There's no snogging here at all! Go home!" Astoria Potter stamped her foot angrily before throwing a biscuit at their heads.


	5. I - IV

**AN: the POV will only change during every 5th chapter or so in order to keep the identity of the person incognito. However, feel free to guess all you like. ;-)**

**Warning: Mature Content**

* * *

Chapter 5 - I - IV

These are fantastic tits. Perhaps the best I've ever seen. I should be carefully calculating my next move, but in all honesty, I'm distracted by these tits. They're so large and incredibly smooth. If I pinch the nipple just so, they pucker so deliciously. I couldn't resist giving them a gentle tweak. It was a strange sensation to be able to turn myself on. I knew if I didn't stop molesting myself I was never going to get out of my room at the Leaky Cauldron.

I wish my own body was this hot. I wonder what it would feel like to shag looking like this. Would my tits bounce? Would my orgasms be more intense? Well, no sense in waiting to find out. It was almost time to meet him anyway. I mean, I knew he wasn't the best looking wizard, but perhaps with a bit of instruction, it could be a satisfying liaison. He wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off me. Hell, I could barely keep my eyes off me.

I found myself rifling through my luggage, searching for the perfect dress. I didn't normally wear dresses but this was a different sort of occasion. I mean, it's not as if I looked like me. I settled on a short, slinky, sequined red dress. It barely covered my bum and pressed my magnificent tits to the bursting point. I slipped on the tiniest pair of knickers before stepping into a pair of gold heels. Gryffindor colours; yes that would definitely turn his head. I let the long blonde hair cascade down my back before kohling my eyes. The colour hadn't changed much, still your basic brown but I wanted to stand out. I wanted him to come to me. Things were so much easier if they came to me. He wouldn't be any different.

I could feel the multitude of eyes on me when I walked down the stairs into the pub, but ignored them all. I didn't have time for dalliances with drunken wizards. I had a party to get to after all. When I stepped out into Muggle London I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't understand it; not really, it's not as if I would be recognised. It was a short walk to the club and I hoped he hadn't arrived yet. If he had, I hadn't quite worked out how I would manage to get inside. Sure, it was a wizarding club. Nox of all things, but this event was by invitation. I, most definitely, wasn't invited.

I could see him, just half a block away no less and my heart started to pound. What if I couldn't go through with this? Maybe it wasn't the best idea I've ever had. He was a famous Quidditch player and I was just, well I was just me. Tonight however, I was an incredibly sexy blonde aching for him. I'd get him. He'd be mine, if only for a little while.

I hurried my pace, as his entourage slowed, as if to push past them and stumbled. He reached for me as I fell, just as I hoped he would. His muscular arm slid around me, grasping my hip as my tits crushed into his chest.

"Allo, lovely. Be a terrible thing if a lass such as you were injured." I smiled, parting my red lips as my tongue flicked over my top lip.

"Thank you." I pulled away from him with a quick nod as if I wanted to continue on my way, but his hands held firm at my waist and I knew I had him.

"Don't rush away dearie, come with me now. 'Tis a bit of a celebration. Can I buy you a drink then?" He wiggled his dark eyebrows at me with an easy smile. He really was quite a good looking man. I had forgotten.

"I don't even know your name." I laughed lightly as I lied. You'd have to live under a fucking rock not to know who he was, but I knew just how to lure him in.

I let him lead me into the darkened night club, toward the 'reserved' booth in the back. The moment he was seated beside me, his hand was on my thigh, his lips on my neck. He thrust a glass filled with a bubbly pink drink into my hands and I downed it.

"Oliver. My name's Oliver. And you lass?" His long fingers tickled the inside of my knee, practically begging me to part my legs.

I scooted away from him, just a tad before leaning in. I wanted his attention on my ample display of cleavage and I wasn't disappointed. He swallowed, panting slightly when I took a deep breath. I knew the crest of my breast was tantalizing him with the barest glimpse of a blush peak.

"Susannah." I sidled into his side, my hand on his thigh as he removed his wizard robes. I inched up the hem of my dress, spreading my knees slightly. His arm came around me slowly, brushing the side of my breasts through the light material.

It seemed Oliver wasn't wasting any time. He wanted me and he wanted me bad as was evidenced by the prominent bulge of his slacks. The flickering lights over our booth were a distraction, yet kept Oliver from shagging me in the club. When the waitress came over with a plethora of drinks he smiled and whispered something into her ear. She nodded and instantly we were cast into darkness.

"Nox is a bloody good club. They take care of me here." Oliver whispered while nibbling my earlobe. I was unaccustomed to the instant dampening of my minuscule knickers, and the light pants escaping plump lips. If I wasn't careful I could lose control. My thoughts wound up clouded and completely muddled in the pitch black. Perhaps I could succumb, just once.

"This is all...very fast." I managed to sputter with his fingers in my hair, his lips attacking my neck. He peppered kisses along my throat, across the top of my cleavage and I moaned. His hand ran down the front of my dress until he reached my thighs. He pushed my legs open farther, stroking up the insides of my thighs as my breath came in quiet gasps.

"I like it fast." Oliver fingered the lace of my knickers, shoving it aside as he stroked me. "You like it fast too, dirty girl. So wet." He slipped a finger inside and my hips bucked of their own accord.

I was at his mercy; it wasn't supposed to be this way. He stroked slowly and I could feel his eyes on me, even though I couldn't see a thing. My eyes hadn't adjusted to the pitch, but my body felt as though it were on fire. He added another finger, thrusting faster as he brushed against my throbbing bundle of nerves. I couldn't breathe. I didn't want to breathe. He slid down the top of my dress, exposing my fantastic tits to the hot night club air. He suckled my nipples, tugging them lightly with his teeth. I slid back in the booth, ignoring the thump of my head against the wall, focusing instead on my intense arousal. Oliver stopped suddenly and chuckled.

"I don't...why did.." I couldn't formulate a proper thought. I was completely focused on the throbbing between my legs. It took all of my self control not to reach between my own folds and bring my own release.

"Take off your knickers."

"Here?" For some reason I felt indignant. Sure, the entire reason I was there was for his seduction, but I never thought it would be in the middle of a bloody night club.

"No one can see us." Oliver gave the table a bit of a shove before pulling me to my feet.

He spun me toward the table and shimmied my dress up to my waist. He wrenched my soaked knickers down my ankles and bent me over the table. I expected to hear the drop of a belt buckle and the sliding of a zipper. Instead it was his hands, apparently exploring my semi-nudity.

"Cor, you're bloody flawless. Lose the dress, lass." I didn't like feeling powerless, but there was something about being ordered around which I found incredibly sexy. I felt his hands on the small zipper before I could even reply and I was naked. Completely naked, pressed against a cold table, in the middle of a night club.

"Stand up now, turn around." Oliver slapped my arse before turning me over. He yanked me onto his lap and instantly squeezed my breasts. He pinched and pulled my nipples until I was writhing on his lap.

"There...there was something...in that drink.." I wanted to stop myself from responding, but I couldn't. Everything felt as if I were in heaven. I couldn't stop. I didn't want too and I knew Oliver had spiked my drink.

"Of course, lass. Just relax." Oliver pushed his tongue into my mouth, with one hand gripping my thigh, the other plunging back into me as I bucked against him. He sat me on the table and I could feel myself falling backward. I could feel myself lose control and I couldn't do anything about it. I couldn't stop his fingers from groping my breasts. I couldn't stop his tongue from invading my deep recesses. I couldn't stop the body binding, screaming orgasm course through me and I didn't want too, which made me hate him just a little bit more.

The world wouldn't be missing a bloody thing once I rid it of Oliver Wood.

I barely remembered fucking him in the bloody booth, but I knew I had. Somehow we wound up back at his flat. He had me bent over a ridiculously large piano and he pounded into me.

"You're magnificent, lass. Might just have to keep you around a bit." Oliver laughed then, giving me another slap. It took every ounce of self control to keep from hexing him into oblivion. With a strangled groan, he finished, collapsing on top of me.

"You do this often then?" I managed to keep the disgust from my voice and I was grateful he couldn't see my face.

"Didn't used to, but one particular lass gave me a bit of trouble. Bit of a prude really. Figured this was much easier. Never have to come home alone." Oliver laughed while he extricated himself and sauntered toward his kitchen completely starkers.

"She wouldn't shag you then?" I shimmied into my red dress, watching the flicker of a frown cross Oliver's features.

"Cor, no. She doesn't shag. Frustrating really. She's a good lass though, just not the one for me." Oliver shrugged, finishing a glass of water.

"Shame."

"Eh, enough talk o' that. Listen. There's a party for Yule. We're hosting some of the Bulgarians. If you're a good lass, I'll introduce you to Viktor Krum." Now my curiosity was piqued. Two birds with one stone? This was more than I hoped for. I wouldn't have to go searching for the bastard; he was coming right to me.

"Does he like a bit of fun too?" I was probably pushing my luck, but I was so close, I had to try, didn't I?

I had my list. It was compiled. He was going to pay. They were all going to pay. It was all their fault. More his, than anyone's but hurting them would hurt him. He deserved it. It wasn't fair that he could go along with his life while mine was in complete shambles. If he hadn't...no, I couldn't think about that now.  
I couldn't believe I was reduced to this, not really. I could have been happy. I could have had the life I always wanted. The life I bloody well deserved.

I was happy. I had a good life. It wasn't the life I thought I would have, but it was good. John used to say that bad things happen to good people. I didn't want to think about him. It hurt too much. Did it mean I was a good person? I mean, I most assuredly wasn't now, but at one time, perhaps I was.

I had toyed around with some Muggles, trying to perfect everything. I knew the Ministry hadn't a bloody clue what was going on, but that was nothing new really. I doubt they'd been able to put the pieces together. It didn't matter really, they were just practice.

Getting Krum on the other hand, well, everything would have to be perfect for that. There really wasn't a reason for deciding on Oliver. He hadn't had much to do with anything, except her. He dated her. Hurting her was hurting _**him**_. I only had half a dozen names on my list. I'd have to do better than that, but sometimes it was so hard to think. I didn't want to hurt my friends. They weren't really my friends anymore, but they were at one time. I didn't want to hurt anyone, but I couldn't let him get away with it. He had to pay. It was his fault my love was taken from me.

I wonder how difficult it would be to reconnect with my old friends. They'd ask questions, but I was becoming such a good little liar. They'd never guess. I knew they thought I was weak. Maybe I am weak, maybe in the end, I'll join John and...no, mustn't think of him.

They haven't found Marietta yet, nor Michael, for that matter. I wonder how long it will take them. I'd bet my last Knut they'll have that know-it-all bint doing the research.

I hate her. Not as much as him, but just enough to want to cause her pain. I wonder if she enjoyed my little surprise on that tomb. I suspect she didn't have a bloody clue she'd have to decipher the runes properly in order to open the enclosure. It wasn't that difficult, not really. I mean, she's been trying to prove her worth in the wizarding world since we were children. I bet she never thought of something as simple as a Muggle memory game. John taught me when...no, not yet. It was a simple game though, I always enjoyed it. Match the pictures. I thought it was incredibly easy. The runes I enchanted over the opening were numerals for Circe's sake. I honestly thought she was smarter than that. The explosion was an oversight. I didn't mean for it to be as large as it was. If she had been killed, my game would have ended entirely too soon, which would have been a pity.

"Oliver, dear." I hadn't heard a bloody word he'd been saying. Didn't care to really.

"C'mere, love!" He smiled and for a moment I felt a twinge of guilt, but I didn't have time for such things.  
I was so thankful I'd remembered to take Marietta's wand. I don't know what I would have done if I had forgotten it. I knew I couldn't risk using my own wand, especially if I was planning on repairing relationships.

"Imperio."

* * *

I was practically giddy with excitement. I wondered how long it would take them to find Marietta. Though, in retrospect, I did hide her well. If I had to guess, I'd bet on them finding Viktor and Oliver first. They are pretty prominent people as far as Quidditch is concerned. Of course, if they found the bodies out of order it would take them that much longer to decipher the runes.

"Susannah! Please!" I found myself laughing. It wasn't often two burly Quidditch players resorted to begging.

I couldn't believe how easy it was to force Oliver to owl Viktor. You'd think after spending years at Hogwarts with the threats of Voldemort and Dark Magic, learning beside Harry Potter, he'd have managed to learn how to throw off curses. Ridiculous really. I would say he'd rue the day, but he wouldn't live long enough. Happy Christmas!

Lazily I flicked my wand, Silencing them easily. They were huddled together, naked of course, and terrified. I didn't want to hear them begging and pleading. Sometimes they'd attempt to offer me money to release them with promises to never tell. Of course they were lying. I could see it in Viktor Krum's angry Bulgarian eyes.

I really needed to configure the perfect runes to mar their bodies. Marietta and Michael were more personal than any of the others on my list. I didn't bother with anything beyond a singular rune expressing exactly what I thought of them.

I don't really have opinions when it comes to Viktor and Oliver. They're subtle victims. They're the beginning of my message.

"Krum. Come along now." I was really going to miss this fantastic body.

I smoothed my hands over my short black skirt and popped a few buttons on my short sleeve white blouse, just to get Viktor's attention. He definitely wasn't the smartest wizard I'd ever come across, which surprised me really. I'd heard such good things about Durmstrang after all. It amused me to watch Viktor stand from his crouch, his hands covering his necessities before following me from the darkened room.

Oliver and Viktor learned there was nowhere for them to go after I allowed them a glimpse of the great outdoors. Miles and miles of snow covered trees and mountains. No one knew this little cabin even existed. Of course they wouldn't. John's mother had left it to him in her will. I wondered if he'd be angry with me. I suppose in a way I was desecrating his family dwelling, but it was for a good cause.

I only took my eyes off him for a moment, but that's all it took. Viktor knocked my wand out of my hand and slammed me into the wall. I couldn't see where it had landed, but I had bigger problems. Most women probably wouldn't mind the hulking Bulgarian pressing his nude body against theirs, but they hadn't held him prisoner for a handful of days.

"For vot do you do this?" Viktor's English had managed to improve slightly since the last time I saw him, but it still made me shudder.

I almost laughed when I felt his body react to my shudder. He wasn't any different than any other man. I was scared but not terrified. Sure, he had the upper hand for the moment, but I didn't expect that to last long.

"Viktor," I purred rubbing my bum against him. "Do you really want to talk?" I wasn't looking for another sexual escapade. I'd had my fill with Oliver Wood as much as it turned my stomach. I simply needed to distract him so I could find my wand.

Apparently, Viktor had other ideas. He fisted my blonde hair as split my shirt completely in half. I knew he was strong, but I honestly hadn't any idea he was that strong or fast.

"No Viktor! Don't shag the bitch! Kill her! Get us out of here!" Oliver shrieked from the confines of his cell while rattling the bars.

I knew better than to fight against the Bulgarian. He shredded my skirt and chuckled darkly when I was wearing nothing but my bra and knickers. He maintained his unrelenting hold on my hair and dragged me toward Oliver.

The cold steel of the bars chaffed my exposed skin and I held my breath. I should have been more careful, I knew better. I had been trained for exactly these sorts of situations, but I got cocky.

"You fuck Wood?" His gruff voice growled in my ear and I wanted to be stubborn. He slammed me into the bars when I didn't answer until I finally nodded my head. He grunted and dragged me from the room. I didn't understand why Oliver had remained silent. He had simply sat there scowling at me in silence.

When he threw me into the table, I tried to run. I scrambled to my feet, searching the corners of the room for my wand. Viktor laughed, catching me about the waist easily and slamming me onto the table.

"We share." This wasn't part of my plan. I had no intention of fucking Viktor Krum. It wasn't necessary, he'd already been lured to my presence and yet here I was being pinned by the throat to the table I had acquired for nefarious means.

Viktor's meaty hand squeezed my throat, applying copious amounts of pressure every time I moved. He stripped me of my knickers while leering at me. I should have been furious and felt violated, but it wasn't as if I hadn't done worse. I had murdered people, what was a little rough sex in comparison to that?

He bruised my thighs, my hips, my breasts and my throat, but I knew I could conceal such things. It was pointless to struggle. He shoved into me so hard I almost saw stars. I didn't mind the way he stretched me or the burn of his thrusts. He slapped me a few times expecting me to scream, but I didn't. Viktor was earning his own death; he just didn't know it yet.

When he finished, he stupidly collapsed on top of me with a grunt and fell asleep of all things. He never bothered to look for my wand or any wand. No wonder she dumped him. Viktor Krum is an idiot. It took me almost an hour to work my way out from underneath him, bloody heavy bastard, but it worked out alright. I crouched on the floor, scouring it for my wand and almost shrieked in glee when I spied it near the back door. No wonder I couldn't find it. It blended so well with the walls and the floor, I was lucky to have spotted it at all.

"Enneverate." It wasn't necessary, but I didn't want to touch him. Viktor snorted awake, glowering at my wand.

"For vot you do this?" He was a man of simple words. I'd much prefer him as a man of no words and I'd have my wish soon enough.

"You wouldn't understand, not really." I gestured toward the large wooden table in the middle of the room. It was the only piece of furniture in the room. Viktor sat on the edge of the table warily.

"Try."

"No, Viktor, I don't think I will. I've given this a lot of thought. Incarcerous." Viktor didn't struggle against his bonds, even as I pushed him flat onto the table. I waved my wand, keeping my dark eyes trained on Viktor. I had to do the last bit as me. Sure, I could have kept up the Glamour, but I wanted him to know, wanted them all to know, it was me.

"You! I know you!" He struggled then and I smiled sadly.

"No, you don't. Not really. Avada Kedavra."

* * *

It didn't take me long to carve into his body. I felt it was better to mutilate them after death. Sure, I wanted them dead, but I didn't want them to suffer overly much. I imagine his family wouldn't consider this the best present for the holidays, but it couldn't wait.

"You bitch! You killed him!" I could hear Oliver bellowing from the other room. For a moment I wondered how he'd managed to release the Silencing Charm but I was unfocused, of course it lifted.  
I refused to allow Oliver to disrupt me. I was almost done. I didn't even require the numerous books anymore. I had memorised them.

John would have been proud. He so loved to spend our holidays here. We'd sit in front of the fire, whispering on the tatty sofa before opening presents. I miss his kisses. I miss the feel of skin against mine. I miss his laughter. I can't imagine my life without him and yet here I am.

"Merlin! It's...you! How could ya?" Oliver burst into the room, his eyes wide as he took in my natural form before his eyes flicked toward Viktor. I wasn't planning on killing them both today. Damn Oliver Wood and his bloody hero complex.

"Avada Kedavra!" Oliver Wood stared without seeing before falling to the ground. I shrugged before returning to Viktor. I wasn't finished with him yet.

* * *

I loved flying above the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. It was so liberating. I missed it dearly. I didn't think I'd ever return to Hogwarts, yet there wasn't a better place to leave Oliver. He belonged on the Quidditch pitch of Hogwarts.

Viktor on the other hand was a bit more difficult. I didn't want to just dump him anywhere. It had to be someplace special. I had decided Bulgaria was definitely out of the equation, but considering the rune I had carved into his chest, the place I had finally chosen was quite poetic. At least it was to me and that's what meant the most.

I wondered how long it would take for them to be found. I wondered how long it would take the Golden Boy to put all the pieces together. I assumed _she_ would discover the connections first, she always was brilliant. I'd heard she was a bit mental after the war and that could work in my favour. Perhaps she'd be so distracted by her own issues; I would be able to exact my revenge unto completion. That was a deliciously wonderful thought.

The weather was quite blustery and it was the middle of a holiday break from school. Just as I let a small smile grace my glamoured features, the sounds of screams wafted up to me and a sense of peace settled over me.

It had begun.


	6. Yule

**AN: Oi. I still love you guys. k? k.**

* * *

Chapter 6 - Yule

"Someone's been altering the tombs."

"I thought getting through the protections was part of your job."

"Well, yes, but there's been things added, well, curses of a sort and well.."

"Bill! Harry! It's Christmas! Enough with the shop talk. George, get out of the kitchen! Arthur, put out some extra plates would you dear? Hermione and Draco will be stopping by." Molly Weasley reprimanded her family while she bustled around the chaos of the Burrow. She brandished her wooden spoon, daring her family to defy her even as Bill and Harry's voices lowered to continue their forbidden conversation. As much as they adored Molly, they didn't relish the idea of being beat about the head with her spoon.

"Is that what Hermione meant when she said they had been another? Malfoy and I have been working tirelessly to decipher the runes but we're sort of shite at it and Hermione refuses to help us." Harry sighed, keeping an eye on his wife.

"She's refusing? She's a Specialist. How can she refuse?" Bill scratched his head, running his fingers over the scar Fenrir Greyback had gifted him years before.

"China patterns. Narcissa is demanding they choose a china pattern and Hermione won't lift a bloody finger to help us until Malfoy gets his head out of his arse."

"I still can't believe she's marrying him. They don't seem well suited at all." Bill shuddered.

"They're perfect for each other, actually. They're both too completely stubborn to see it."

"How can they not see it? They're getting married. They must love each other.." Harry grimaced, forgetting for a moment that other than the parties involved and himself, the Weasley's hadn't the slightest clue when it came to the contractual marriage.

"You're right of course. Their bickering is a bit trying on my nerves is all." Harry tensed as the Weasley's Floo roared to life and an angry Hermione Granger emerged.

"That man!" With a wave toward Harry and Bill, Hermione immediately settled beside Astoria and Ginny. A moment later, Draco Malfoy emerged with a scowl. He pointedly ignored his fiancée and stalked across the room to sit beside Harry.

"That woman!" Draco pulled a flask from the back pocket of his Muggle jeans and taking a sip while Molly's back was turned.

"What now, Malfoy?" Harry whined, wishing Arthur would distract them with another strange invention. Bill patted Draco awkwardly on the back, taking a small sip from the offered flask.

"What's wrong..er Mal-Dra..mate?" Bill fumbled, still slightly uncomfortable being on friendly terms with the former Death Eater.

"What isn't wrong?" Draco snarled, waving his hands about, "Malfoy, you humiliated me. Malfoy, your mother sent another owl. Malfoy, are you going to sleep all day you lazy git? Malfoy these runes are incorrect. Honestly, Malfoy, do you know anything? Malfoy, this flat is a disaster. Malfoy, we need a guest room. Malfoy, I am not your mother. Malfoy stop staring at me. Malfoy, don't touch my arse. Bloody hell." His impersonation of Hermione would have been amusing if she hadn't been glaring at him from the living room with her wand pointed in his direction.

"Malfoy, you should...uh...run." Harry's green eyes widened while he slowly edged his way out of his seat. He had no intention of being caught in the cross-fire.

"Bugger it, Potter. Let her hex me. I give up." Draco didn't lift his head from the table and the slouch of his shoulders actually made Hermione lower her wand.

"Harry, Bill, why don't you take Draco out to the garden. I'm sure there are a few errant gnomes to be dealt with." Arthur Weasley shook his head at Hermione while the boys silently ventured outside.

"Hermione. You've been like a daughter to Molly and I. You're family. I've spoken with Kingsley and well I honestly expected more of you. I'm not going to say more than that, well, that's not true. I never thought I'd see the day where I was truly disappointed in Hermione Granger." Arthur sighed, gave Molly a quick peck on the cheek and went back into the shed.

"I can't say I know the intimate details of your relationship, Hermione. Merlin knows I was always hoping you and Ron would end up together, but I know that's impossible now. Draco Malfoy was always a bit proud and incredibly arrogant. It took us a long time to come to terms with that, some days we still have a bit of trouble. He's not the same horrid little child he was and you'd do best to remember that. He's welcomed you into his home. He cared for you after that ridiculous stint in Egypt. He worried for you. Now look at what you've made me do! Defending Draco Malfoy. You should be ashamed of yourself. Get out there right now and apologise to the poor man. I'll not have you ruining Yule!" Molly waved her spoon, flicking bits of what looked to be mashed potato across the table before wringing her hands on a damp tea towel.

"Molly, I.."

"Young lady, go!" Molly pointed at the door with a glower until Hermione finally made her way out doors.

"Wow, mum." Ginny snickered into Astoria's shoulder, reveling in the feel of the baby tumbling beneath her hand.

"I wasn't wrong was I? He cares for her, yes?" Molly flicked her wand, setting the dishes to wash.

"Oh he cares for her, Molly. A great deal quite honestly. Has for a long time. Sometimes I think Hermione is completely clueless." Astoria sighed, rubbing her stomach, giving Ginny's probing hands a slap.

"Why'd she agree to marry him then?" Ginny was completely enamored with the child growing within Astoria and regardless of Astoria's grumbles of discontent, spoke directly to the bouncing stomach.

"Why indeed." Molly sniffed, her eyes narrowing. Astoria gulped and closed her blue eyes. She had no desires to entertain the Weasley women's suspicions.

"Stori knows, mum." Ginny pulled her multi-coloured scarf tighter around her neck, bundling into her knitted sweater.

"Ginny. Leave it. Will your beau be joining us?" To Astoria's surprise, Ginny blushed, yet shook her head.

"No, mum, we didn't think, I mean uh, well.."

"She didn't want her brothers embarrassing her." Astoria sighed while struggling to her feet. "They best not take all night, I'm bloody starving."

* * *

"C'mon Malfoy, give the gnome a kick. You'll feel better." Harry dangled the struggling garden gnome while avoiding it's snapping teeth.

"I don't want to bloody kick it, Potter." Draco slumped on the stone bench and sighed.

He didn't want to be at the Burrow. He came for her, not that she'd appreciated it or anything. He was trying and she didn't even notice. All she cared about were the things he wasn't doing. It was obvious she was unhappy, but it was if she didn't even notice his misery.

"Come on then, tell us what happened." Bill was used to being the sounding board of his younger brothers and their woman troubles, though he never expected to be standing in the snow offering comfort to Draco Malfoy.

"Yeah, Malfoy, we're...sort of your...friends." Harry shrugged before punting the gnome through the hedges.

"I haven't got friends. Not really. Blaise is all bloody married and disgustingly happy and Theo is completely enamored with..well you know, Potter." Draco was careful to avoid mentioning Theo and Ginny. He knew the young Weasley wanted to break the news to her family and he didn't wish any further ire thrust upon him.

"We're partners, Malfoy. That's sort of like friends. I mean, don't go spouting it about or anything but, if you need to talk it out, we'll listen." Draco sighed deeply. Part of him was afraid to start talking. He had never really bared himself to anyone other than Stori, though she wasn't particularly helpful these days.

"She doesn't see me." He remembered saying the same thing to Astoria and she'd rolled her eyes and made some flippant remark. It had hurt his feelings, but he'd never tell her.

"I think, Hermione is having difficulty adjusting. She's used to the Draco Malfoy from Hogwarts. She's used to the Draco Malfoy at work. She doesn't know this particular Draco Malfoy and it's going to take her time to realise he's different." Bill cast the Burrow a surreptitious glance before withdrawing a Wizard Stick from his cloak. He knew his mother detested them, but that was neither here nor there. Using his wand, he lit it quickly and inhaled as the pale wisps of purple smoke swirled about his head.

"It's all fast, you know Malfoy? And Hermione requires order. She absolutely hates the unknown and this whole situation is an unknown." Harry waited patiently for Bill to pass him the Wizard Stick, keeping the Burrow at his back. He knew his wife would pitch a fit if she saw him now.

"Of course it's fast. You think I like it any better? I made room in my library for all her books. I'm in the process of disassembling my bloody lab because she decided we needed a guest room. Never mind the fact I've been brewing potions in there for years, that doesn't matter. I offered to purchase a new residence and she vetoed that idea without even considering it.

You know she's not even living there yet? She absolutely refuses. If she's not living there, why do I have to do this? She took off to bloody Egypt without even asking me how I felt about it. I mean, it's not like I would have stopped her or anything. She's a Specialist. It's her job. I know her job is important to her, but would it have killed her to inform me? Thought I was going to lose my mind. Didn't know where she was, what she was doing, and if anything had happened, you'd think anyone would tell _me_? I know how they look at me. Some things never change; I've come to terms with that. Doesn't even bother me anymore. I know I'll never be seen as anything other than a bloody Death Eater, it's just...I thought..."

"You thought she'd see you." Harry found himself actually pitying Draco Malfoy and he didn't like it, not one bit. The poor bloke was right.

"Well yeah, is that so wrong? Merlin I sound like a woman. Gods, I _am_ a woman! I know exactly how she takes her tea. I know better than to try and talk to her before she's had her coffee in the morning. I know she hates pancakes but loves waffles, which boggles my mind really; they're the same aren't they? She thinks blueberries are absolutely disgusting. She's expecting a weekly parcel from Flourish &amp; Blotts because she's always ordering new books. I've been doing research for her. I know she misses her parents terribly and Dumbledore never got to teach her how to properly remove the Memory Charm without causing damage. I tried to tell her about it but she wouldn't hear of it. I know more about china patterns, flowers and colour swatches than any bloke has the right to know and it's still not good enough."

"Malfoy, she's only been back for two days, what the bloody hell has been going on over there?"

"I pay attention, Potter. We have worked with her for years. How did you not know anything? She's your best mate yea? Don't you listen when she speaks? I mean, I knew Weasel's eyes glazed over the moment she starts rambling, but I thought you were better than that."

"I've been distracted. My wife's pregnant you know!" Harry blushed furiously while attempting to defend himself.

"You're lucky Stori and her parents planned your wedding, Potter. Emerald or sage? Willow or Diane? Afternoon or evening? Plain or patterned? Roses or Lilies? I never want to taste another cake as long as I live. I'd rather elope than do any of this. My mother of course would never hear of it. I've vetoed half the guest list because I don't relish the idea of my distant relatives hexing my bride. I've booked the honeymoon, which I don't even know if she wants one but it's expected. I don't care about the money or anything but she could pretend to care. Is that so much to ask? I sound like a woman. Quick, give me a drink and one of those Wizard Sticks. Don't tell her. She'll bloody hex me." Draco sucked from his flask greedily, cursing himself for venturing outdoors with Bill and Harry in the first place.

"You love her then?" Bill snorted while handing Draco a lit Wizard Stick. He closed his eyes, missing the wide eyed glances between Draco and Harry.

"It doesn't matter." Harry held his breath, hoping Bill would let it be.

"Doesn't matter? Of course it matters." Draco leapt from the bench, throwing his Wizard Stick into a drift of snow.

"No, Bill, it doesn't. The great Hermione Granger is never going to love a bloody fucking Death Eater like me, so it doesn't matter how I feel." Without waiting for another rebuttal, Draco stalked up the hill from the Burrow, snarling as he caught a glance of Ron Weasley bumbling toward him.

"Malfoy! Wait!" Draco knew if he turned to look at her, he'd never leave.

He stopped, ignoring the Weasel even as he rudely bumped into his shoulder. Hermione called him again and there was a certain pleading quality to her voice, but he couldn't go back. He couldn't force himself forward either. Draco stood in the blustery winter wind, watching flurries of snow spin toward the ground. He knew he was still within the wards of the Burrow and if he took a few more steps he could Apparate to his flat, yet he didn't. He could hear the laboured breathing behind him as someone trudged toward him and he hoped it was her.

"Malfoy. Are you leaving? It's Christmas." Hermione stared at his back, watching his pale hair lift in the frigid breeze, yet she did not touch him.

She had heard him speaking with Bill and Harry in the garden. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but she'd heard more than she knew she was supposed to hear. Hermione felt guilty for her previous actions. She honestly hadn't considered his feelings in the matter at all. She was so busy feeling disgruntled with the contract, with Dumbledore, with the new issues concerning the tombs, let alone her impending wedding and the plans to go with it, she had lashed out at Draco as if it were his fault. She knew it wasn't his fault; it was hers if it was anyone's and he had been trying. She knew she was stubborn, more than the usual witch if she were being honest with herself.

"It's alright, Granger. I-I don't belong here. Go; spend Yule with your family. I'm sure my parents would be thrilled if I visited them at the Manor." Draco took a step forward, shivering at the sensation of walking through the Burrow's wards.

"Malfoy, wait. Don't go." Hermione grasped his hand, halting his forward progression instantly.

Her fingers laced through his, tugging him lightly as the warmth spread through him. He hated the way his body responded to her slightest touch. He hated the feeling of loss and emptiness which surged through him the moment she moved from him. It wasn't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be building a friendship and remain good friends who occasionally had to shag. It was most unbecoming for a Malfoy to entertain the very idea of love. He didn't love her. He cared about her, more than he was willing to admit, but love? She could destroy him if he loved her and he wasn't willing to give her such power.

"It's obvious I'm not wanted. It's fine, Granger. You can enjoy a lovely meal with the Weasleys. You can gossip with Stori and Ginny and I'm sure by the end of the evening you'll have forgiven the Weasel and the two of you can curse my very existence." Draco tried to sound bitter, but it fell short even to his own ears.

Hermione realised she had truly hurt him. She'd never seen him in such a state. He wasn't the arrogant, angry man she'd always known. She knew in her deepest heart of hearts, he hadn't been that man in years, but she hadn't wished to entertain the possibilities. She was afraid. Hermione Granger didn't show fear. She barreled through life, shouting instructions and demanding results, yet Draco Malfoy was a different matter. He made her feel unsettled.

Hermione was used to witches and wizards casually tossing insults in her direction. She was used to being doubted and having to prove her worth. She was also used to being disparaged by the wizards she had dated. The idea that of all the witches and wizards she'd ever known, besides Harry and the Weasleys, it was Draco Malfoy being exceedingly kind, confused her. Why would he do that? He couldn't possibly have strong feelings which didn't revolve around revulsion for a Muggleborn witch.

"I'm sorry. Please, come back. We'll...we'll have a chat." Draco stared at their entwined fingers and knew he would return. His father would call him weak, but was it weakness really? Draco knew Lucius would have hung the moon to please Narcissa, was that weakness?

Hermione willed him to look at her. She squeezed his hand, yet still he wouldn't meet her gaze. She inhaled deeply, refusing to flinch when his empty palm stoked her cheek. She took a step toward him, ignoring the cold seeping into her feet. His frigid lips brushed her forehead before he bent toward her ear.

"I-I shouldn't, Granger. I.." Draco sighed with obvious frustration, "I can't bloody resist you." Hermione shifted until her lips brushed his cheek.

"Please." She kissed the corner of his mouth and Draco froze.

"What do you want from me, Granger?" He released her hand to bring his to her face, even as her eyes closed. He stroked her cheekbones, keeping the breadth of space between them, even as he wanted to envelop her in his arms.

"I-I don't know." Neither of them had realised their close proximity until Hermione's words were spoken against his lips. Their breathing was stuttered and nervous as their skin felt warm despite the coldness in the air.

"Figure it out, Granger." Hermione shivered and pressed her lips to his. It was sweet as far as kisses go and Draco appreciated that. His shock kept him from properly responding, which was probably for the best. He didn't relish the idea of devouring his fiancée in the freezing cold in front of her ex-boyfriend's family. He waited for her to break away from him, but she didn't.

Hermione sighed while tugging the lapels of his coat. If someone had asked her why she was desperately snogging Draco Malfoy in the middle of a snowstorm, she wouldn't have had an acceptable answer. She didn't know. It was simply a compulsion she couldn't resist. She was drawn to him. She found his subtle vulnerability endearing. He could get under her skin like no other and the twisted part of her reveled in it. For the first time in her life, she felt as if someone saw her exactly as she was, instead of what they wished her to be.

The snowball smacking the back of Hermione's head, crashing her forehead into Draco's broke them out of their embrace.  
"Oi! Wankers!" George Weasley magically hurled a pile of snowballs toward Hermione and Draco, causing them to duck and laugh their way back toward the Burrow.

Victoire and Fleur scurried around the side of the Burrow in a flurry of giggles and flying snow. It didn't take long for Harry and Bill to join in the fray deciding Hermione and Draco should receive the brunt of their frustrations. Hermione squealed, immediately ducking for cover, even as Ron glowered with the garden gnomes.

"Mum! It's Christmas! Why is _he_ here?!" Ron shouted over the peals of laughter as various sized snowballs whizzed past his head.

"Oh Ronald, do shut up!" Molly sent a boulder of snow flying toward her youngest son in the moment before George tackled his mother to the ground.

"Aw, but mummy, Ickle Ronnikins.."

"SHUT UP GEORGE!" Ron tossed a garden gnome at George, his face red with fury as a running Hermione rounded the house with Draco in quick pursuit.

The gnome hit the side of Hermione's face, causing her to lose her footing. Her hands immediately shot out to cradle her fall, when strong arms grasped her from behind and she was twisting in midair. The air rushed from her lungs upon impact as Draco groaned in pain beneath her. Hermione opened her eyes to find Draco grimacing in the cold snow.

"Y-you..you caught me." Hermione's breathless whisper rang in the night air, through the flurries of snow as if it were a shout of wonder.

Draco pushed Hermione's unruly mane off her face and smiled. Hermione tilted her head slightly, stunned by the sight of Draco Malfoy smiling, so used to his customary smirk. Her brown eyes wide with wonder, she shifted as if to move off him, when he lifted his head off the cold, hard ground and captured her lips with his own. They ignored the snort of disgust coming from Ron and the snickers of laughter from the rest of the Weasleys, lost in each other.  
Draco didn't care if there was a bloody audience to their impromptu snog session. He nibbled her bottom lip, drawing it between his teeth, sucking lightly. The barest hint of a whimper, perhaps even a gasp, echoed between open mouths and a curtain of golden brown curls. Draco broke away from her pink lips to kiss along her jawline until he reached her earlobe.

"Always." He spoke, with a nibble and a sigh, almost making Hermione forget what words she had spoken.

"Alright you two, that's quite enough. Come along then, you lot! Inside!" Hermione flushed with embarrassment as Arthur Weasley broke through their haze.

Draco kissed Hermione quickly, helping her to feet before pulling her into his arms. Harry clapped him on the back before venturing inside, dragging along a protesting Ron.

"I need you." The words slipped between his lips unexpectedly and he almost mentally cursed himself, until Hermione smiled.

"Later." Her eyes full of promise, Hermione clasped his hand in hers, leading him into the Burrow.

* * *

"Ronald, I won't hear another word of it. Hermione is family. Draco is now her family and he's as welcome here as any of you. If you can't be civil, then your father can escort you back to that facility until you suss yourself out proper." Molly slammed a heaping bowl of gravy onto the table, signaling the end of their disagreement.

Ron grumbled incoherently and shot daggers at Draco but sat at the table, piling food onto his plate. There was a collective sigh of relief and if Hermione was correct in her assumptions, several wands were placed back in their pockets.

"So, Malfoy, I hear you've enjoyed sifting through china patterns for your upcoming nuptials?" George grunted, rubbing his side from an errant elbow but smiled congenially anyway.

"Actually, I uhm, sent Narcissa an owl and everything's been chosen. Thank you for reminding me, George." Hermione smiled sweetly, yet her eyes were flashing with a barely concealed rage.

"You did? Honestly? China patterns?" Draco choked on his glass of pumpkin juice.

"Yes. It was down to the Willow and the Diane and I chose the Diane. There shan't be a bit of bloody Slytherin green at our wedding, Draco Malfoy and I informed your mother of such as well."

"Merlin, you went through all those bloody swatches?" Molly smiled serenely, daring any member of her family to disrupt the calm.

"Of course I did. Your mother wanted green and silver and of course your father agreed. As a Gryffindor I couldn't abide such things. I mean, it shouldn't be a bit of a surprise, however, we came to an agreement, though your father was less than pleased."

"Should I be expecting a Howler then?" Draco stared at his plate, pushing his peas to the side. Hermione sighed in exasperation and snatched his plate from between his hands.

"Molly, Draco detests peas." She rolled her eyes and scraped them onto her plate, before adding another dollop of mashed potatoes. "No Malfoy. You shouldn't expect a Howler. It was all very amicable. The colours are blue and silver. I know your affinity for the colour blue and well, silver was a small concession to make. They're very festive in a New Years sort of way."

"The flowers as well?" Draco stared at his plate, wondering when Hermione had discovered his distaste for little, round, green vegetables.

"I hate roses, so we settled on a medley of orchids, white asiatic lilies and pussy willows. I adore pussy willows. They were my favourite as a child because they always made me feel a bit wicked."

"There are only the linens then?"

"Of course not. Simple white linens with silver napkins and blue napkin holders, it's the least outlandish thing we could agree upon. There's also music and the guest list but seeing as I don't know half the witches and wizards on the list, I thought it wouldn't be much trouble for you to go through it? Your mother said she would owl us a copy."

"You're bloody amazing. Have I told you that lately?"

"Not once, Malfoy. Not once." Hermione smirked to Draco's great chagrin and he couldn't resist pecking her lips quickly despite the present company.

The rest of the meal followed with easy conversation which pointedly excluded Ron. He snarled silently beside the crackling fire when Hermione was pulled into Draco's lap. It took every ounce of his self control not to hex the man when Hermione simply laughed instead of slapping him soundly. Bill gave him a none too gentle nudge forcing him to his feet. While Bill remained silent, the message was clear. Ron Weasley was permitted to visit his family on Christmas in order to make amends.

"I have something to say." Ron stared at the ground, pulling on the sleeves of his newest maroon sweater, courtesy of Molly and waited for the chattering to cease.

Draco draped his arms around Hermione's waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and squeezed. He wasn't sure he was going to like anything the Weasel had to say, but for Hermione's sake, he would remain silent.

"I don't remember much of anything the night I visited you, Hermione, but I said some particularly nasty things, so I'm told. I shouldn't have gone to the pub, I know that. I know I have to find new ways to deal with things. The Healers used bigger words than that, but I can't remember them now. It's not important. I only remember having one drink, but seeing as I'm not supposed to have any, I could see how quickly everything went to shit. Sorry, mum. I didn't handle the uhm, the aftermath of the war very well, now did I?" Ron chuckled without mirth, feeling incredibly uncomfortable as all eyes fell on him.

"None of us did, Ron, not really." Hermione's soft voice drew Ron out of his haze and Draco knew the young Weasley would always love her.

"Well, you did alright then, didn't you? You're a Specialist now. I don't know what that is exactly, but I know they created the position just for you. You've always been unique and I've always loved that about you. You're smarter than anyone I've ever met and I knew I was never going to measure up and I think that's why I hated you too.

'Look. I didn't come here to talk about us. There never really was an us before and we tried to make a half arsed sort of go of it but I messed it all up because I couldn't sleep. I didn't know how to let it all go. The only way I could get some bloody relief was if I was completely pissed. Then I started craving it and sometimes I wouldn't even remember how I got home. I was a right bastard, to you, to my family and to myself.

'I've uh, well, I've started this Potion and I can't drink with it. It's an idea from some Muggle treatment. I don't understand it all exactly but the Potion lasts for a month and if I have a drink, I'll wind up incredibly ill. I'd rather not spend my days regurgitating my food and drink. I uh, see a special sort of Healer and St Mungos opened a new sort of ward for witches and wizards with...with...problems like mine.

'I'm not asking you to forgive me. I haven't earned it. Malfoy was right. I was a bit of a git and an utter and complete tosser. I just, well, I wanted my family and friends to know that I'm sorry. I'm trying. I still hate the idea of you marrying Malfoy, Hermione and I'm never going to be bloody friends with him, but I won't hex him. Unless he hexes me first." Ron sat down abruptly with shaking hands. Bill pressed a small amber bottle into his hands and Ron gulped it down greedily.

Hermione and Harry remained silent, stunned by their old friends speech. It was the most they'd ever heard him speak in one sitting unless it revolved around Quidditch or food. Molly smiled with tears in her eyes and embraced her son, squeezing him until he protested.

"Pwesents!" Victoire shouted, tired of listening to the adults talk.

"Mon cheri! Do not bee zo rude." Fleur reprimanded the toddler with a smile, swinging her up into her arms.

"She has a point. Definitely presents." George tossed parcels to his family members and ruffled Victoire's head.

She snorted with disdain yet hugged her parcel with a toothy grin. She spied Hermione across the room and toddled over. Without asking she climbed into Hermione's lap and immediately began swinging her feet.

"NeeNee. Open." Hermione laughed, pulling Victoire's hair off her chubby face and kissed her cheek.

"Auntie NeeNee!" Teddy Lupin wriggled out of his grandmother's arms and rushed Hermione, giving Victoire a shove.

"Teddy. Apologise. That's not how we treat people, now is it?" Teddy pouted, his nose wrinkled in distaste as his hair flared a brilliant red.

"You my NeeNee, no hers." Teddy crossed his arms, shaking his head furiously. Hermione picked Teddy up and settled him on her knee, hugging both children to her tightly.

"Nana! She kill me!" Teddy coughed dramatically until Hermione released him. He laughed while running across the worn wooden floor toward Andromeda Tonks.

Draco swallowed with difficulty. While he had met his Aunt a few times since the end of the war, it always took him a moment to realise Andromeda was most definitely not Bellatrix. The resemblance was uncanny, until she spoke. Her eyes lit with warmth and her voice was honeyed with affection, which was nothing like her deceased sister.

"You're really good with them." Draco tore his eyes away from his laughing aunt, returning his attention to the witch in his lap.

"Well, I've known them practically since they were born. I adore them. I always wanted.." Hermione stopped. She closed her eyes and drew a shaky breath. As an only child she'd always wanted a houseful of children. Of course she'd wanted to be older and secured in her career, but she always saw children in her future. Now however, she saw a Malfoy heir and wondered if she'd ever find a bit of happiness in the life laid out before her.

"My parents always wanted more children. My mum had a bit of difficulty carrying me. She'd lost a few before I finally came along and my father was afraid of losing her, so they never tried to have more. I think it could have been nice to have a sibling or two." Draco's thumb caressed the back of Hermione's hand. He knew children wasn't a subject they had broached, but having seen the light in her eyes while spending those few moments with the toddlers sparked his interest.

"My parents didn't want more children. They barely wanted me. I always wondered what it would be like to have siblings. Being an only child is so incredibly lonely." The bitterness in her words was palpable and he didn't know how to ease her pain. He quickly changed the subject so as to avoid furthering her obvious pain.

"Would you like your presents now or later?"

"I'd like to wait for Molly to open hers first. I have yours stashed in Ginny's room." Hermione never took her eyes off Teddy and Victoire who were dancing around the adults with bits of wrapping in their hair.

"Oh! You didn't! I can't! It's..oh you sweet, sweet girl." Molly clutched her parcel to her breast with a sob of joy.

"It's not just from me, Molly. We all put in." Hermione blushed even as she reveled in Molly's joy.

"Arthur! Can you believe it?! Celestina Warbeck's complete works. Merlin! Are those really? You didn't! They're so expensive!" Molly rifled through the Muggle tissue paper and withdrew a pair of concert tickets before fainting dead away.

"You killed her, Granger." Hermione smacked Draco's arm with a laugh.

"I've listened to her talk about Celestina Warbeck for over a decade. It's about time she bloody well gets to see the woman. She's done so much, for all of us."

"You really love them, don't you?" Hermione nodded, stifling a giggle as Arthur tried to revive Molly.

"I splurged on everyone this year. What's the point of receiving an obscene amount of money from the Ministry if you can't spread it around a bit?"

"What'd you get me, Granger?" Hermione ignored him; instead opening a lumpy parcel which she knew contained another knitted sweater from Molly.

"No, no, Harry! That one is for you and Ron. You must open it together. Stori! Would you smack him?!" Astoria laughed yet smacked her husband about the head at Hermione's request.

"You bought a present for the Weasel? After everything?" Draco hissed into her ear, less than pleased.

"In all honesty, it wasn't my idea. Stori and I had an idea for a present for Harry but it would have been silly for only himself. George suggested making it a joint present and well, he convinced us it would be better for them both. So all three of us split the cost."

"BLOODY HELL!" Harry and Ron shouted together, leaping off the sofa with an envelope in their hands.

"I can't believe it! Chudley Canons! Tickets for the entire season!" Harry and Ron jumped up and down clutching each other's arms.

"Granger, can we...go home now?" He'd never had the camaraderie with someone the way Harry and Ron did with each other. Their exuberance made him feel unsettled, as if something were lacking in his own life and he didn't like to dwell upon such notions.

"I thought you wanted your presents, Malfoy?"

"Can you be my present?" Hermione gasped. Of course it was during a lull in the festivities that Draco had spoken, causing every eye to focus on the couple.

"My NeeNee! No you!" Teddy shouted from across the room, twirling one of Victoire's new dolls by the hair.

"He told you, didn't he Malfoy." Ginny laughed, pulling her new Holyhead Harpies throw around her shoulders.

* * *

Hermione slipped out of the room to retrieve the parcels she had set aside for Draco. She was nervous. It wasn't often one had to purchase a present for someone who was so bloody rich they could buy anything they liked. She knew he rarely made practical purchases, so she had started there. Hermione wasn't sure he would appreciate the rabbit fur lined gloves, nor the cashmere scarf in a multiple shades of blue, silver and white, but quite frankly she was tired of seeing him shiver whenever he ventured into the cold.

Harry had informed her Draco had a particular affinity for art. She didn't know his favourite artist or even his favourite piece but after prodding Harry, she had discovered his secret obsession with an old photograph. She had found it creased and worn in the pocket of his cloak. She didn't know how he had gotten it or why he had held onto it. Draco was always scoffing when it came to Muggle technology and yet he carried a Muggle photograph of her.

It had been taken the day Harry and Astoria married. Hermione was walking through a meadow of wildflowers, her golden brown curls tumbling down her back. The cap sleeves of her ivory dress had slipped off her shoulder, baring the smattering of freckles she normally kept hidden. She was holding a large ivory hat in her hands and it trailed over the tops of the poppies. She was smiling in profile, barely looking over her shoulder at whomever had taken the picture.

It hadn't taken her long to find a struggling artist desperate for a commission to put it on canvas for her. While she wasn't fond of her likeness in any form, it evoked an unfamiliar emotion to discover Draco Malfoy had coveted a photograph of her. She was quite nervous to present it to him and rethought her gift while she struggled with the cumbersome package.

"Mione, did you forget you're a witch?" Ron snickered from his place on the floor beside his sister.

Hermione bristled; she never had been fond of the mangling of her name. Even Harry had eventually learned to stop using it, but Ron Weasley was always a bit thick. She clenched her teeth and ignored him.

"You really should stop calling her that, Weasel. She doesn't like it." Draco drawled, twirling his wand between his long fingers.

"Mione! Tell him he's wrong. I've always..."

"He's NOT wrong, Ronald. Perhaps if you'd listened just once of the countless times I'd told you I detested it, but you never did listen to me, did you!" She realised how much anger she still harbored toward Ron while she shrieked at him.

"C'mon then, love, give me my presents." Draco smirked, effectively distracting Hermione before she said things she would later regret.

Harry smiled at him appreciatively before kissing his wife in a way which no one would deem appropriate for present company. Bill hefted a sleeping Victoire in his arms, with Fleur leaning into his shoulder. Molly and Arthur conversed quietly over the Muggle flashlight Hermione had gifted him. Andromeda rocked a sleepy Teddy on her lap while watching her nephew with affection. In that moment, Draco Malfoy felt as if he actually had a real family and it rocked him to his core.

Draco didn't know what to expect as he took in the parcels Hermione placed in his lap. He was particularly interested in the largest parcel leaning against the back of the sofa, but he opened the smallest one first.

"Of course she bought you a book. I win. Give me my galleons!" George smiled broadly, holding out his freckled hand to Harry, Ron and Ginny. They rolled their eyes and plunked their galleons into his waiting hand.

"It's...it's not just any book, you wankers." Draco fingered the leather bound book with reverence. He had been searching for it for years. He had heard rumours that his Godfather had the last copy in existence but hadn't the heart to look through his things.

"What is it then?" Harry perked up, keeping one hand resting on his wive's extended abdomen.

"Potions: Past &amp; Present. The last printing was before I was born. This was the book that changed his life. Well, not his life but it's how he became so accomplished. I've been searching for it for..for...years." Draco sighed as he opened the front cover and gasped. He found himself gazing into warm pools of brown, a smile dancing on the edges of full lips.

"Oh yeah. It's about bloody time you gave that to him, Hermione."

"I told you I was saving it for Christmas when I found it in that box, Harry!"

"Potter, you're...you're alright with this then?" Draco's grey eyes flicked from the inscription to the green eyed wizard in quick succession.

"Absolutely. I was right shit in Potions really. Never had the patience for them. Sorry, Molly."

"Oi! What's it say then?" Ron demanded, his lip curling as the tips of his ears turned red.

"Severus. The journey to the future begins with the past and present. May the path lead you to place where we belong. Love, Lily."

"Why did Mio-uh Hermione have Snape's book? Why did your mum write anything to him?" Ron scratched his head in absolute confusion.

"Ronald. If you paid attention to things beyond Quidditch and your next meal, you'd know the bloody answer. There was a box of Severus' books at Grimmauld Place. Harry gave them to me for safe keeping and we forgot about them. I went through them and discovered this rare text and I asked Harry what he wanted me to do with it. He told me he wasn't interested in any ruddy Potions book considering what happened with the last one. Considering Severus Snape was Draco Malfoy's Godfather we thought it was only appropriate that he should have one of the last remaining copies of a book which helped Severus become the Potions Master he was." Hermione huffed with indignation. Draco carefully turned the pages, studying the tiny writing in the margins. Only Severus Snape would have the audacity to 'improve' tried and true potions.

"Open the others." Hermione prodded with a slight trace of impatience even as Draco shook his head.

"I don't need others."

"Fine, then give me my presents." Draco reached into his pocket and withdrew two small packages. He placed them on the sofa beside him, his eyes finally lifting from the worn pages.

"Don't open the smallest one until you're ready to leave."

"Malfoy, I.."

"Granger, for once, don't argue." Hermione rolled her eyes, picking up the long thin parcel and ripped the paper off. Harry smiled, recognising the box from Draco's personal Gringott's vault.

"My word..." Hermione breathed as she opened the box and spied an exquisite bracelet. She had never seen anything like it. It was obviously hand crafted, perhaps even Goblin made. Circlets of platinum comprised the bracelet, in each cage like orb was a smattering of blue sapphires and each orb was connected by twinkling diamonds. The piece matched her ring perfectly and she was touched by the thoughtfulness.

"Granger, don't...don't cry." Draco whisked the bracelet from the black velvet box and clasped it around her wrist before wiping her tears with his handkerchief.

He never had understood a witch's tears. He ripped off the silver wrapping paper from the parcel remaining in his lap and laughed. His intention had been to distract Hermione yet again and instead he found himself adoring another present.

"You're so bloody practical." Draco slipped his hands into the gloves and was pleasantly surprised to find they fit well. He wondered if she had them specially made. He'd always had such difficulty finding any sort of hand covering to fit him properly and here was Hermione providing him with just that.

"One of us has to be." Hermione sniffed while wiping away the tears which trickled down her cheeks.

"These are fantastic. My parents normally gift me copious amounts of Puddlemore United tickets.." Harry and Ron groaned loudly as Ginny hissed.

"Malfoy.." Hermione carried the largest parcel and set it on the floor before him. Harry thought Draco looked particularly ridiculous sporting a cashmere scarf and rabbit lined gloves while wearing a button down shirt and slacks and shared a look with Ron. The two dissolved in a fit of laughter while Draco pulled the plain brown paper off his final gift.

"Potter. I'm going to bloody Avada you."

"Better men than you have tried and failed, Malfoy!" Harry shouted swinging his glass of firewhisky about until Draco turned the painting toward him.

"Bollocks." Harry snatched his wife from the sofa while simultaneously placing his glass on the wayside table. "Er Molly, Arthur, thanks for having us. Stori's exhausted. It's uh hard work carrying around a baby. Dinner was lovely. Bill! I'm sure I'll see you soon. G'nite then!" Harry dragged his wife to the Floo and with a flourish of green flame, they were gone.

"That wanker."

"D-d-do you not...like it?" Draco whipped his head from where Harry had stood to see Hermione chewing her bottom lip with nervousness.

"I bloody love it, but that's not the point. I nicked that picture from Potter's office when he was going through the ridiculous pile of wedding photos. He was bloody sworn to secrecy and look where it got me. A bloody gorgeous painting, no doubt but.." Draco sighed, raking his fingers through his hair.

"But everyone knows you've fancied her for years; who cares? You're marrying the witch. Go home." George rolled his eyes, finished Harry's drink and clambered up the stairs to his bedroom.

"C'mon then, love. You can open the last one at home." Hermione and Draco were subjected to numerous hugs, kisses and promises of owls before they ventured back to their flat.

* * *

"I don't get it." Ron grumbled as he helped clean up the remnants of Christmas dinner.

"What now, Ron?" Bill found himself alone in the kitchen with his youngest brother while they flicked their wands to wash dishes.

"I mean, Hermione and bloody Malfoy. He was a right git in school. He called her Mudblood and made her cry. He almost killed Dumbledore. He let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts..."

"He didn't identify any of you lot at Malfoy Manor in the face of that crazy bitch Bellatrix. He and his family not only provided vital information concerning the remaining Death Eaters but if you remember correctly they defected from Voldemort. There's nothing dishonorable in doing what's necessary to protect your family, Ron and you might well remember that."

"Alright, alright, he's a bloody saint now."

"He's an Auror. He's your best mate's partner and your other mate's fiancé."

"Well yeah, but how did that happen? How did he go from hating her to loving her? It's obvious he loves her and I bloody well hate admitting that. And I thought Hermione was the brightest witch of our age and all that nonsense and she's fallen for him? How did that happen, Bill?" Bill sighed, leaning against the sink basin. He stared out the window for a moment, watching the snow drift through the garden before answering.

"He sees her, Ron."

"What does that mean? I see her. You see her. You'd have to be blind not to see her and if you were blind you'd probably hear her. STOP HITTING ME!"


	7. Discoveries

**AN: See. I did not forget about you today. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 7 - Discoveries

"A key? My present is a key? I mean, it's a lovely key, obviously an antique, I.." Hermione stood in the midst of Draco's flat staring at the small golden key between her fingers in confusion.

"Granger. Give me your hand. Come along then." Draco pulled Hermione's cloak closed, wrapping a knitted Molly special around her neck and crushed her to his chest.

Hermione gasped at the familiar yet distasteful feeling of Side-Along-Apparition. As often as she had Apparated with Harry and Ron during the war, it would never be her favourite form of travel. Draco held her tightly as they landed in a small drift of snow, beside snow laden topiaries.

"You can open your eyes." As nervous as he was, he still wasn't able to resist chuckling at her unease.  
Hermione slowly opened her big brown eyes, swallowing down the remnant bits of nausea and gasped.  
It reminded her of the Forbidden Forest, but the beautiful aspects. The never ending calm, the overgrowth of trees laden with dirt paths, the shimmer of moonlight on the hint of a lake or pond between the leaves.

"Great Godric, Malfoy, where are we?" Hermione felt Draco's hand slip into hers and allowed him to tug her along toward the ivy covered home nestled among the trees.

"Listen, Granger. I know it's a lot to take in. Everything, really. I know you don't relish the idea of living in my flat yet you don't want to purchase another residence either. Well, uh, this place is mine." He held a finger over her open lips, willing her to allow him to continue. "I've never lived here. I haven't even visited since my father gave it to me on my seventeenth birthday. He thought I'd appreciate a dwelling where I could entertain uh guests." Draco finished lamely.

Hermione rolled her eyes knowing exactly what sort of guest Lucius Malfoy had in mind. She kept her eyes downcast watching them create footprints in the undisturbed snow while casting furtive glances at Draco.

"I don't really know what sort of shape it's in. I didn't pay much attention to such things when I was seventeen. I had Dink clean up a bit, but I had him leave everything as it was. If-if you don't like it.."  
"Malfoy, let's just have a gander yea?" For some reason she found his nervousness endearing even as his cheeks tinged pink while fumbling with the door.

"My mother loves decorating. I'm sure if you had half a mind..." Hermione held up her hand, silencing him.

Draco flicked his wand, lighting the expanse of lamps upon the wall and stepped back. He didn't care what the bloody house looked like, he wanted to see her face as she took it all in.

Hermione's boots clipped across the cream tiled floors, fingering side tables, gasping at the antiques littering the various surfaces. She swallowed audibly taking in the life size canvas leaning against the stairwell.

"That's a...this is a...Pollack. Jackson Pollack, why is it on the FLOOR, Malfoy?!"

"That's where my mother left it? I don't bloody know, Granger. Looks a bit like a mess to me, but if you're fond of it we'll find a place to display it."

Hermione shook her head, her hand hovering over the swirls of ink as if she were afraid to touch the strokes, which Draco surmised, she probably was. She wandered through the foyer, into an open, undefined space. She supposed it was some sort of sitting room, yet it was devoid of furniture. The furthest wall housed an ornate fireplace with a gold bucket of Floo powder, causing Hermione to laugh. Only the Malfoy's would ensconce their fireplace with gold.

"Yes, yes the gold is over the top. I'm aware. Come along then. The garden is through the french doors there, which you can see tomorrow. Down the hall to the left is a small washroom and I believe laundry facilities? The opposite direction is the kitchen, study, library and two ensuite guest rooms. Upstairs is the master suite with attached sitting room and nursery and I suppose children's rooms as theres an attached bath and playroom. It's not as big as Malfoy Manor which quite honestly I prefer, that place is a bloody maze with so many unnecessary rooms, ridiculous really. I'm sure I'm missing something..."

"Shut up and show me." A hint of a smile glossed Draco's lips taking in the sparkle in Hermione's eyes.

Draco barely remembered showing her what he considered a modest home. He remembered her shrieks, sighs, gasps and laughter as they wandered throughout the house. She loved the magical infused Muggle technology practically skipping about when she spotted the dishwasher and the flatscreen television. She instantly fell in love with the walk-in closets which could have fit her entire flat inside them. Draco loved watching her fingers dance along the edges of the empty built-in bookcases in the library, prattling about her book collections and how they would arrange the books alphabetically as well as by subject.

"You like it then?"

"Like it? Malfoy, this is fantastic! I mean obviously we need furnishings and some of the decor is absolutely horrid, but with time, this place could be absolutely beautiful." Hermione sighed, gazing out the master suite window over the back garden.

"Time? Granger. I'm bloody rich. It can be done before the wedding. Would you like furnishings? Wall coverings? Whatever else you'd like, make a list and owl it to my mother. She'll be bloody thrilled."

"Malfoy..I..I.." Hermione floundered. She hadn't embraced the idea of Draco Malfoy's seemingly endless galleons. She'd always had to work hard, plan, and scrimp for every Knut in order to, well in order to do anything really. She'd received a modest stipend from the Ministry for aiding in the downfall of Voldemort, yet she always tried to live within her means, barring Christmas.

"Granger. What's mine is yours. Get used to it, love." Draco swooped down and pecked her cheek. Hermione didn't expect him to twirl a strand of her hair around his finger, nor nuzzle her neck. She stood stock still, butterflies fluttering frantically in her stomach, her heart pounding furiously in her chest.

"Mal-Malfoy, it's late, I should go uhm, oh." Hermione was distracted by warm, soft lips along the side of her neck, teeth grazing the flushed skin.

"Yes?" Draco drawled, knowing the exact effect he was having on her.

"I-I should go home, I c-can ooh, owl your mum and.."

"Granger. Stay with me." His hand flowed down her arm, around her back, pressing her lower back until she was flush against him. The other was lost in her mass of curls as he worked his way toward her alluring lips. He kissed the corner of her mouth, smirking as her eyes fluttered shut.

"I-I can't. Please." Draco ignored her stuttered plea, instead working the buttons of her blouse.

He pulled her away from the window, backing them toward the only piece of furniture in the room. Hermione gasped as the backs of her knees hit the edge of the four poster bed. She was lost in a sea of sensations. Hermione felt herself sliding along the silk sheets and Draco's feather light touch across the bare skin of her midriff.

For a moment, Hermione was cursing herself for venturing anywhere with Draco Malfoy. She couldn't catch her breath and found she didn't want too. Draco removed his shirt, yanking it over his head impatiently, detesting every second he wasn't touching her. He didn't want to give her a moment to collect her thoughts, to refute his advances, to scurry away in the night.

Hermione was vaguely aware of her slacks falling to the wayside as had her blouse. Draco's scantily clad body covered hers, his lips and hands constantly moving, her back arching while reveling in the sensuality of it all.

"Gods, Granger." Draco groaned against her lips while sliding her knickers down her thighs. She rose up to meet him hungrily, pulling the silken strands at the base of his neck, clutching his chest to hers.

"What are you doing to me, Malfoy?" Hermione's husky sigh filled his senses as he worked his way down her body.

Draco was hard pressed to maintain control. He wanted her. He wanted all of her. He realised, while dallying his ministrations on her hips, he didn't just want her body. She was an enigma to him. She challenged him in ways no one ever had. She infuriated him. She intoxicated him. She made him want to be more than he was. He knew, he'd never get enough of her.

He teased the inside of her thighs, feeling her tense beneath him. Draco distracted her, toying with her pert peaks.

"Oh you can't, Malfoy, I...oh sweet Salazar!" Hermione whimpered as his tongue invaded her folds, forcing her hips to the bed. "I can't..Merlin, I can't."

Hermione's knees clenched his head in a near vice grip as her body shuddered, her limbs tingling, while she grappled with the unfamiliar tightening, low in her abdomen. The moment before her world would come crashing down around her, Draco sheathed himself within, unable to quell the desire to feel her come undone around him.

"Fuck, Granger." He hissed feeling her flutter around him, warm, wet and so incredibly tight.  
Hermione thrashed her head to and fro while he moved slowly, wanting to elongate the feel of her as her fingernails left pink half moons on his hips.

"Draco." She whispered into the tendrils of his hair brushing her cheek, his face buried in her neck as he rocked his hips, her wrists firmly trapped over her head. He hadn't known how sensual his name could be. He hadn't known how hearing her gentle cry would be his undoing. While she writhed beneath him, her whimpers turning to loud moans as she reached her crescendo, Draco Malfoy came to the realisation he didn't mind, not one bit.

* * *

"I don't want to move in with you." Hermione sipped her piping hot cup of coffee, keeping a wary eye on Draco while he perused the Daily Prophet.

"Ever?!" She cringed, wishing to avoid an argument.

"I didn't say that. It's just.." Draco slammed the paper onto the glass table of his flat in irritation.

"Just what, Granger? I've never taken anyone there. Never even entertained the possibility of having a wife, having children, having anything for that matter, so what are you saying?" Draco curled his hands into fists to quell the irrational shaking. The very idea that his wife didn't wish to live with him was more painful than he'd want to admit.

"My parents. They're Muggles.."

"I know Granger, it doesn't matter. I'll marry you anyway." Draco smirked, knowing it would anger her.

"Bloody hell. Would you stop interrupting me?! Harry's going to be here soon. My mum, she wasn't a very affectionate mum or anything but when I was thirteen or so, she talked to me about...about...sex." Hermione blushed, which Draco found endearing considering what they had been doing the night before and nodded encouragingly.

"She harped about how bloody special it was and how it should be saved until you really loved someone and even then to wait until your wedding night. Well, I didn't do that now did I? My dad ordered me to never live with a man before I married him because no one wants to buy a cow if they can get the milk for free and.."

"Granger. Why was your father discussing cows? Wait. Was he comparing *you* to bloody livestock? That's obnoxious."

"It's a Muggle saying, Malfoy. It just means that women should have respect for themselves and wait until a bloke has committed himself before giving him all the perks of a committed relationship without actually having one. I just want to wait until we're...until we're..."

"Married."

"Yes, m-married before I move in with you." Draco waved his hand and rolled his eyes.

"Yes, fine, alright. I would suggest however that you allow my mother to get started on preparing our residence. She does have impeccable taste and I'll warn her to avoid the Slytherin green, although I do think it would be smashing in the study, especially with the dark wood. I wouldn't be against you moving some of your belongings into Forest Lake prior to the wedding as well."

"Forest Lake?" Hermione's brow furrowed while sipping her coffee and toying with a danish.

"The name of our home. Have you discussed the ceremony site? I know mother and father were set on it being held at Malfoy Manor. Before you get your knickers in a twist, Granger, I already told them that was an impossibility." Draco wrinkled his nose at his tepid coffee. He waved his wand, warming it while Hermione chewed her bottom lip.

"Thank you for..for not expecting me to.."

"Granger, I'd never ask you to return there." Draco stood abruptly. As he passed Hermione he leant down and kissed her brow.

Harry Potter's Patronus burst into the sitting room of Draco's flat as Hermione cleared the remnants of her breakfast.  
"Malfoy! Shacklebolt needs us at Hogwarts, bring Hermione." The gentle timbre of Harry's voice dissipated as Draco rushed from his bedroom in a pair of black slacks and a haphazardly buttoned grey shirt.

"Me? Why would they need me? I rarely go on site. I mean, unless I'm requested and only Bill requests me these day. I don't really underst..."

"Granger, shut up. We need to go. Are you ready then?" Draco took in Hermione's grey striped pencil skirt and red blouse, appreciating the way the ruffles draped across her cleavage.

"Let me put on some slacks. Hogwarts was always a bit drafty in winter." Draco rolled his eyes, willing himself to be patient.

Moments later she emerged wearing a pair of grey pin striped slacks before she began tossing parchment and ancient books into her messenger bag. She twisted her mane of curls into a bun on the very top of her head and declared herself ready.

* * *

"Mr. Malfoy. Ms. Granger. Mr Potter and Minister Shacklebolt are on the Quidditch pitch. We've magically sealed it from curious students, so you shouldn't have an issue." Hermione was surprised to see Percy Weasley greeting them at the gates of Hogwarts. Quite honestly she was expecting to see Headmistress McGonagall and found herself disappointed.

"This is the twat Weasley yea?" Draco poked Hermione's ribs with his wand, reaching for her hand.

"That's uncalled for, he's not a...not a...well, he's much better than he was during our days at Hogwarts."

Hermione sniffed, following the arrogant bounce of Percy's head. While he wasn't as overbearing as he used to be, Percy still had an air about him which made her want to hex him.

"We know our way to the Quidditch pitch, you realise." Draco's hand twitched as he controlled the impulse to send the red haired wizard into a broom closet.

"Ministry regulations demand all non-Aurors be escorted to any and all investigation sites."

"Granger is a Specialist. She's the bloody liaison between the Aurors, Gringotts and the Curse Breakers. Without her, we couldn't do our bloody jobs. She's who we call when our investigations stagnant because we can't decipher whatever mess is left behind due to Dark Magic. You're quite a pompous git aren't you?" Hermione found herself quite surprised by Draco's passionate defence.

"Mr. Malfoy, you'd do well to remember I am the head of the Department of Magical Transportation. Minister Shacklebolt requested *me* to escort the investigators to the site of the crime."

"Oi, Weasley, unless there was another mishap with a flying car, perhaps you'd do well to remember that an Auror and a Specialist, as well as former Hogwarts students, do not require a bloody escort. LEAVE US!" Percy sputtered, drawing himself up to his full height, which was still considerably shorter than Draco Malfoy yet stepped away. There was a fire in the stormy grey eyes which he did not wish to engage. With a curt nod towards Hermione, Percy quickly disappeared around the corridor toward the Great Hall.

"That wasn't necessary, Malfoy."

"Granger. I'm aware. I simply detest the little fucker. C'mon then. Potter looks quite a bit out of sorts." Draco sighed, buttoning Hermione's cloak tightly up to her throat to ward against the blustery cold. She allowed herself a small smile as he slipped on his rabbit lined gloves.

"Malfoy, don't let her out here. Not yet." Harry called across the pitch, a sickly green pallor on his cheeks.

Draco grasped Hermione around the waist, pinning her back to his chest. She didn't argue nor fight against his embrace, instead stamping her feet to ward off the cold. She was used to Harry's antics, which had been adopted by Bill Weasley as well. They would never learn she was a perfectly accomplished witch in her own right and had a stronger constitution than both of them combined.

"Granger, can you uhm, stop wiggling?" Draco cleared his throat uncomfortably as Hermione's bum rubbed against the fly of his slacks. She giggled, which he had never heard before as she wiggled deliberately.

"You could always let me go, Malfoy."

"Or I could fuck you against the wall if you don't behave." Draco slid his hand over the curve of her bum, giving it a bit of a squeeze. He nuzzled her neck, catching her earlobe between his teeth as her breath quickened.

"Stop. Not here. Not now." His breath caught in his throat at her breathy little whisper, making his trousers tighten.

"Kiss me, then." Draco observed Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry in a deep conversation with a few Aurors, their backs turned toward whatever lay on the ground.

Hermione turned slowly in his arms, her hands pressed against his chest as she looked into his smoldering eyes.

"You're insatiable, aren't you?"

"I've heard married couples have a shoddy sex life, so I'd like to get as much as I can now." He winked and wiggled his pale eyebrows with a ghost of a smile.

Hermione raised herself up onto the tips of her toes to lightly peck his lips, but Draco wasn't about to let it end there. His hands roved over her back, cupping her bum and lifting her against him. Her legs automatically surrounded him as he spun their bodies away from prying eyes. He fumbled with the locker room door, plunging them into darkness. He slipped his hand into her cloak, yanking the hem of her blouse out of her slacks until he felt skin beneath his palm. Draco growled into her mouth, grinding his pelvis into her as they crashed into a wall of lockers. Hermione rocked against him, breathless, excitement coursing through her at the very idea of being caught by an errant student or a nosy Auror.  
Draco dropped Hermione's feet to the floor and spun her around. He yanked her slacks down off her hips until they pooled at her ankles.

"Put your hands on the bench." Hermione acquiesced, hearing his belt clatter against the tile when he dropped his slacks.

He pressed his hand against the small of her back, kicking her feet apart before plunging into her. They groaned at the contact and a wicked part of Draco wondered what Hermione's mum would think as he thrust into her daughter.

* * *

"I hope your cock falls off, Malfoy." Harry Potter shielded his eyes the moment he entered the changing area for Hogwarts Quidditch players.

He knew Draco Malfoy better than he wished to admit. He caught sight of his best mate kissing Malfoy and knew it was only a matter of seconds before Draco had worked his way into her skirt. He wasn't disappointed, though still a bit on the queasy side considering what awaited him in the middle of the pitch.

"Good thing we're dressed then eh Potter?" Draco gave Harry a wink and a smack on the bum.

"Hermione. Your blouse is inside out. We're ready for you on the pitch. Kingsley wanted the Cleaners to have a go before you got to work. It's always worse when we know them. Hasn't happened for a bit, eh Malfoy?"

"Why'd Kingsley request Granger? I mean, she's fantastic of course, but how often is the Specialist brought to the scene?" Draco kept an eye on Hermione while she scuttled into the showers to adjust her blouse.

Harry sighed. He cleaned his round wire rimmed glasses on the edge of his Gryffindor scarf. He knew Draco was going to be angry with him. It wasn't often Harry Potter withheld information from his partner, but these were extenuating circumstances.

Until the engagement of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger was announced on the front page of the Daily Prophet, there were still some members of the Ministry who were convinced Draco was still involved in the Dark Arts. While Draco had become used to such accusations, he had never been removed from a case.

That wasn't exactly true, as Harry was about to divulge. Instead, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Harry Potter put forth an incredible effort to shield Draco from certain aspects of their investigations. It wasn't as though Harry didn't trust his partner, he did, but when the other Aurors were clamoring to the Minister for Magic that Draco Malfoy was responsible for the recent unsolved deaths, it was a fine line between right and wrong.

"Listen, Malfoy. I want you to know it's nothing personal. It wasn't my idea, I was just following orders. Why don't you give Hermione your wand?" Harry's feet shuffled on the cool tile, small beads of sweat forming on his forehead, despite the chill in the air.

Draco's eyes narrowed perceptibly yet he held out his wand to a nervous Hermione. She tucked his wand in the back of her slacks and crossed her arms. She could read Harry better than his wife and knew he felt guilty about whatever he was hiding.

"Potter." Draco growled, a tic in his cheek twitching, despite his cool demeanor. Hermione could feel the animosity coming off him in waves. She grasped his hand, squeezing.

"Kingsley has had Hermione piecing together some runes that were uhm found...in Muggle London. Don't glower at her. She didn't know, er doesn't know, but I suppose it's all going to come out anyway now." Harry sighed, yanking on his unkempt dark hair in frustration.

"Harry, what are you going on about?" Harry watched the couple as they leaned into each other, unaware of their close proximity. Draco's chin brushed the top of Hermione's head and Harry watched him inhale deeply and calm.

"The runes Kingsley sent you were from bodies. Don't interrupt. We thought it was a singular event and the Minister didn't want to cause a panic. We kept it under wraps. Williamson riled up some of the Junior Aurors and well..."

"Well what Potter? They decided I was a viable suspect and shouldn't work the case regardless of the fact my partner is Harry bloody Potter and my fiancée is Hermione Golden Girl Granger? Bloody delightful. Might as well resign now. It's pointless." To Harry's surprise, Draco slumped onto the bench behind him, his head in his hands. Hermione perked beside him with a frustrated sigh.

"I defended you! I told the Minister he was being unreasonable. Williamson started clamoring about how bloody right he was after they stopped."

"How many were there, Potter?" Hermione rubbed Draco's back, pulling his head to her abdomen.

"There were two. This one here is the third and the Post Mortem Healer determined time of death and you were at the bloody Burrow. Williamson's been demoted to desk duty and I expect he'll be dismissed before long. Shacklebolt's called in Cleaners Chang and Nott. We don't know if there's a pattern. We don't know why these particular people were targeted. We don't know a bloody lot, but like I told Kingsley, we're not going to figure out a bloody thing by keeping one of our best Aurors on the sidelines. Pull your head out of your arse Malfoy and let's go."

"How would my head get in my arse Potter?" Draco shuddered with the imagery. He kissed the inside of Hermione's wrist while standing and drawing her to his side.

"It's a Muggle expression!"

"You're conveniently avoiding the names of the victims, Potter. Don't think I haven't noticed." Harry's green eyes flicked to Hermione nervously.

"He doesn't want to say with me here. It's alright Malfoy. I'm not an Auror. I'll go out to the pitch.."

"No." Hermione sighed with a roll of her eyes but didn't argue with him while giving back his wand.

"Fine, I'll wander around the grounds a bit. I haven't been here in ages. I'll stay near the castle."

Hermione kissed the cheeks of her boys before exiting the locker room in a swirl of bouncing curls and the lingering scent of parchment.

* * *

"Malfoy, I.."

"It's fine, Potter. Get me up to speed, I don't want her out there alone for too long."

"You really fancy her then. I mean, Stori always said and it was sort of amusing to watch you get so bloody angry about it, but you do."

"Potter, can we not do this now?" Draco growled, his pale hair falling into his eyes, clutching his wand in a sweaty palm.

"I'm not asking for a confession of your deepest affections, Malfoy. It just seems things are going swimmingly with Hermione and I'm rather fond of her. I don't want to see her get hurt."

"I don't either, Potter. You've asked me before and I've answered. Leave it alone."

"Yeah, but that was before, I mean.."

"Potter! You're as bad as the Weasel! No wonder the two of you needed her. Yes, I fancy her. It would be bloody impossible _not_ to fancy that irritating, infuriating, delightfully sexy minx. I care about her and I don't want her hurt anymore than you do. Now. Who were the first victims?"

"Michael Corner was found first. He had a rune carved into his back. Marietta Edgecombe was found a few days later, but from what Patil says Marietta was killed first." Harry was still wrestling with the idea of Draco Malfoy referring to his best friend as a sexy minx and shuddered slightly.

"This was kept from me why? Who are they? Should I know them?" Draco's fists clenched and unclenched, willing Harry to speed his explanation. He had an uneasy feeling and wished to find Hermione.

"Marietta and Michael were in Ravenclaw. Michael was in our year. Marietta was part of the resistance during fifth year until she betrayed us to Umbridge."

"Wait, was she the one with "sneak" etched on her forehead?" Draco vaguely remembered the Golden Trio snickering at a forlorn brunette, but the memory was vague. He had larger things on his mind during those years.

"Exactly. C'mon then, I'm sure Chang and Nott are finished and Kingsley will want a word. We'll go and find Hermione first though." Harry smirked, noting Draco's unease.

The two strode in easy silence down the corridor which led out to the Quidditch pitch. There was a small gathering of witches and wizards near the Minister for Magic in gaily coloured robes. Draco's chest tightened with anxiety upon noting Hermione's absence and looked to Harry who echoed the sentiment.

"Nott, have you seen Granger?" Draco approached Theo, his hand twitching with his wand firmly grasped.

"Granger, hmmm. She gave us a wave before I sent Chang back to the lab and wandered over..." Theo was interrupted by red sparks lighting the sky. Draco spun on his heel, running toward the direction of the sparks with Harry on his heels.

"GRANGER!" Suddenly the fear of Hermione Granger being in danger at her second home had him gasping for breath.

He was crashing through bushes, dodging around trees, leaping over exposed roots, pushing his body to its limit even as his muscles burned. Harry was cursing behind him, his glasses askew, dirt clotted on his knees from tripping over roots, specks of blood decorating his cheeks from the backlash of branches and he spotted her.

"Malfoy wait." Harry crashes into Draco, knocking them into a tree on the edge of a clearing. "I know this place."

"Fuck you, Potter, she's right there." Draco struggled, trying to free himself from the frenzied scarhead, but Harry helds tight.

Hermione was struggling, something heavy pinning her to the ground. Little shrieks of discontent escaping her lips as her breath floated in the air around her head. She was shoving, pushing and cursing, unable to reach her wand. Draco finally gave Harry a shove and raced across the clearing.

"Potter! Potter there's another. Send for the Minister!" Draco wrenched the cumbersome wizard from on top of Hermione's legs and pulled her into his arms. His fingers raced across her skin, inspecting every scratch and bruise. When he was satisfied she was relatively unharmed, Draco kissed her, hard and bruising until he was forced to come up for air.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Hermione wasn't looking at him; she didn't see the abject horror and fear in his silvery eyes. Tears were dripping from the corners of her eyes, her gaze steady on the cold, gray wizard lying in the snow behind them.

"I-I hadn't intended to go so far. There was someone on a broom and I was curious. I wanted a closer look and then I was on the ground and…and he was on top of me." Hermione fingered her bruised lips, strangely grateful for Draco's vise grip around her waist.

Draco stood between Hermione and the deceased wizard. He didn't want her traumatised any further, regardless of the things she had been a party to during the war. He could feel her stubborn resolve crumbling before his eyes as she began to quiver in his arms.

"I need to get you home." Draco murmured, brushing escaped curls from her forehead.

"I'll be alright, Malfoy. I have a job to do." Hermione sniffed, wiping her nose with the sleeve of her black cloak.

"No, Granger. I'll have Nott or Chang take some photos of the scenes. You don't need to be here. Someone threw a fucking person at you from a broom! You're going home!" Hermione wasn't used to anyone telling her what to do. She was a head strong, stubborn, intelligent witch. It was disconcerting to find herself being ordered about by Draco Malfoy, yet she knew he wasn't wrong.

"Malfoy," Harry panted, clutching the stitch in his side, "Kingsley wants us in McGonagall's office."

"I need to get her home, Potter." Harry nodded readily. The tension was palpable as Junior Aurors surged through the bramble.

"Not you lot. Head back to the Ministry. Send out Pucey, Longbottom, Chang, Nott, Patil and fucking Parkinson. The rest of you lot, clear out. I won't have you contaminating the bloody evidence." Draco snorted. Harry Potter had an air of authority which had the Junior Aurors and Trainees practically quivering in fear as they nodded rapidly, jumping to obey their superior's orders.

* * *

Moments later, Draco, Hermione and Harry stood uncomfortably in Head Mistress McGonagall's office, awaiting the arrival of the Minister and Minerva McGonagal. Draco unceremoniously flounced into an armchair, dragging Hermione down with him. Harry finally settled in an armchair in front of the imposing desk as the portraits of former Headmaster's stared down at him. He couldn't make himself meet their gazes for reasons he didn't quite understand himself.

"I suppose you're quite proud of yourself, aren't you Albus?" Severus Snape's portrait sneered, his beady eyes narrowing.

Draco stiffened hearing his godfather's voice. He sat in the remaining chair, pulling Hermione into his lap. It was unusual for her to remain silent and he was concerned.

"Are you alright, love?" Draco pulled Hermione's hair back in a fist, exposing an ear. She simply stared at the blank space on the wall and nodded imperceptibly.

"Mr. Malfoy, we're alone, there's no need to continue your charade." Kingsley Shacklebolt had entered the Headmistresses office silently, his dark eyes flashing in irritation.

"You thrust us into this situation and you've the audacity to insinuate I shouldn't care for her? That's bloody impossible. I need to bring her home. She's obviously unwell considering.."

"We're all unwell!" Shacklebolt shouted, his cool veneer shattered. He slumped on the edge of Minerva's desk, rubbing his forehead.

"Minister, I think Malfoy here is just concerned about Hermione's welfare. It's not really necessary for her to be here. I sent for the Cleaners and a few members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, but only the ones with discretion. I'm sure we can have extensive photographs delivered to Hermione later this evening and.."

"Are you presuming to tell me how to do my job, Mr Potter?" Harry gulped, unaccustomed to Kingsley reprimanding him.

"Of course not, sir."

"Very well then. Mr Potter take Ms Granger down to the Quidditch pitch so she may inspect the scene. There are wards surrounding Mr Wood which need to be broken."

"No." Hermione's voice was so muted; it would have been missed if Kingsley hadn't drawn a breath.

"Weasley can do it. I'm bloody well taking her home. If you have a problem with that, you can fucking fire me. I'm. Not. Leaving. Her." Draco growled, his face flushed and Harry knew it would be mere seconds before wands were drawn.

He glanced at his former Headmaster's portrait to see blue eyes twinkling behind half moon spectacles and sighed. It was just like Albus Dumbledore to remain silent during the moments others wished he would speak.

"If I hadn't seen it myself, I never would have believed it." Harry leapt to his feet, feeling every bit the naughty student as Minerva McGonagall swept into her office.

"Mr. Malfoy! I'm not asking!" Kingsley gripped his wand so tightly Harry cringed, expecting the wood to splinter in his beefy dark hands.

"Fuck. You." Harry groaned, rubbing his scar vigorously. Minerva McGonagall's mouth dropped open, horror etched into the lines on her face. Severus Snape's portrait snorted, tossing his mane of dark hair over his shoulder.

"Kingsley. You're being completely unreasonable. As much as it distresses me to admit, Mr. Malfoy obviously cares for the girl. She's decidedly out of sorts and requires medical attention. Personally, I'm surprised my godson is still besotted by the Gryffindor know-it-all but alas, we are all aware of the heart's desires. Let him go. He'll be of no use to you if you command him to stay nor if he vacates his post. You need him more than he needs you." Severus Snape spat even as Albus waggled his fingers at him, still smiling brightly.

"Albus, do stop taunting Severus." Minerva grumbled as she placed a thin hand on Draco Malfoy's shoulder. Kingsley sputtered with indignation yet remained silent. Harry wished he had his invisibility cloak, wanting only to disappear.

"Whatever do you mean 'still besotted'?" Kingsley glared at Severus.

"Minerva, I cannot be expected to work under these conditions. The Minister is a fool. It's obvious Ms Granger needs to leave and he's more concerned over my godson's affections." With a flourish, Severus vacated his portrait, causing Harry to smother his snort of laughter.

"Kingsley, shut up. Mr Potter, sit up straight. Mr Malfoy, I would appreciate it if you would stop snogging Ms Granger and pay attention." Reluctantly, Draco released Hermione's lips, smirking as a flush returned a touch of colour to her cheeks.

"Minerva.."

"Kingsley, you're being unreasonable. This is Hogwarts which falls under my jurisdiction. Mr. Potter, please oversee the personnel on the Quidditch pitch and if possible remove Mr. Wood and Mr. Krum from the premises. Luckily, most students returned home for the holidays, but it's best not to take our chances. It would hardly behoove a Ministry investigation to have some unequipped first year stumbling across deceased wizards on the grounds. Please secure a search party or some sort of patrol to ensure there aren't any further victims on the grounds. I believe Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Pucey are waiting for you in the Great Hall." Harry nodded, knowing he was dismissed. He patted Hermione's head, swiftly leaving the office.

"Viktor and Oliver? I-I I knew them." Hermione gasped, tears pricking her eyes. She began mumbling to herself, her breathing quickening as her knees knocked together with their shaking. Her fingers gripped her hair, fisting it until it was painful.

"Granger."

"No. No. I know them. They can't. It's. I just." Hermione closed her eyes, blocking out the sounds of raised voices and the clinking of bottles.

She felt cool fingers beneath her cloak, fiddling with the hem of her blouse until they touched the warm skin of her back. The pressure was comforting as was the rocking motion against the hard body. Paper thin fingers tapped her bottom lip, pressing a glass bottle into her slightly parted lips. She swallowed out of necessity, her lip curling at the unpleasant taste.

"This is exactly why I wished to take her home." Hermione's head fell against his neck, her hand cupping his cheek at the sound of his hissed words.

"I believe Mr. Malfoy is correct. Ms Granger requires rest. I'm sure Mr. Weasley is more than capable. He was quite adept in Ancient Runes, if my memory serves me correctly." Minerva glowered at Kingsley, daring him to refute her. He scowled yet nodded.

"Mr. Malfoy, I'll overlook your unprofessional, insubordinate outburst this time. Due to your impending nuptials and Ms Granger's questionable health, the Ministry will allow the pair of you to..."

"Mr. Malfoy, Ms Granger, go home. You shan't be required to attend your respective occupations until after your honeymoon, which I'm assuming you're taking her some place lovely. She deserves it Mr. Malfoy. That's what you were planning on saying, wasn't it Kingsley?"

"Of course." Kingsley waved his hand, dismissing the pair, to his great chagrin. He detested being reprimanded by anyone, yet tolerated it from the Headmistress begrudgingly.

"Er uhm, thank you. I suppose we'll be going then." Draco struggled to his feet; a sleeping Hermione nestled to his chest.

* * *

"Hermione. Please come out." Harry pleaded, his forehead pressed against the oak door, his green eyes shut tight.

"Draco, what did you do?" Stori waddled across Draco's flat, her blonde hair tussled with interrupted sleep while her fingernails racked across her extended abdomen.

"It wasn't me!" Draco handed Stori a glass of chilled pumpkin juice before pouring himself a glass of white wine.

"It never is, is it? C'mon then, tell Stori what happened." Stori grimaced. She hadn't the heart to inform Draco she hadn't been able to stomach the taste of pumpkin juice in weeks.

"She was sleeping. I brought her straight home after the Hogwarts debacle. I checked on her and she seemed to be alright. Chang and Nott came by to give me a copy of their notes. I might be banished from the office until mid-January, but Granger would be bloody cantankerous without being kept informed."

''Yes, yes, but what does this have to do with Harry receiving a Floo Call and Hermione locking herself in your bedroom." Stori wasn't used to a rambling Draco Malfoy. He normally had a minimalist attitude in regards to everything. It appeared the little Gryffindor Princess was creating a bit of havoc in the perfectly organised world of Draco Malfoy.

"I'm getting to it you impatient wench. Granger woke and we were discussing motives and alibis trying to compile a list of likely suspects when she got distracted by the runes. I'm sure Harry informed you they were carved into the bodies, post mortem, using magic no less." Stori nodded, shivering in revulsion.

"I'm aware. Harry brings home his work home entirely too often for my liking. I'd rather prefer silent brooding."

"Right so, well, Pansy came by. I didn't invite her. I mean, I knew Potter called her to Hogwarts. She works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement but we don't have much contact with the rest of the office. Potter swears by her, says she's one of the best. I haven't seen her in years, well besides the day Potter and I saw her in Diagon Alley and.."

"Draco. I'm not accusing you of anything. No need to sound so bloody defensive. I'm assuming Pansy brought by the photographs. If she was smart she brought Magical and Muggle, but who knows with her. Let's see. She probably made a pass at you, in front of Hermione and all hell broke loose, yes?" Stori propped her swollen ankles on the dark wood coffee table with a twinkle in her blue eyes.

"Patil knocked on the door. I don't know which one and I don't care, don't bother. Of course I opened it; she's the Post-Mortem Healer. She thrust a packet into my hands and left. She didn't even say anything, which I thought was a bit strange. I was in the process of closing the door when fucking Pansy flung herself into my arms and just started kissing me. I mean, I shoved her off immediately. She laughed and kept stroking my arm, trying to whisper in my ear about being available later. Granger was right bloody there, just staring."

"Would you have preferred it in she started hexing the tart?"

"Frankly, yes!"

"What did Pansy do?" Stori rolled her eyes, ticking off the numerous things their old housemate could have done to drive Hermione to tears.

Draco's hands shook as he refilled his wineglass, listening to Harry knock on the bedroom door. He should have said something. He should have done something. He knew Hermione had good reason to be upset with him, but he didn't want Stori angry with him as well.

"Oh, it wasn't all Pansy, was it Draco?"

"I couldn't believe it. Potter's been going on about how much Parkinson's changed since Hogwarts, but she was the same swot I'd known my entire life. She stalked right across my flat and smiled at Granger. She had the audacity to tell her that Draco Malfoy would never be truly committed to a Mudblood and the sooner she learned she was being used for the social standing of the Malfoy's the easier her life would be. Sh-she told Granger that she'd always be the mousy, unattractive, bushy haired, buck-boothed, know-it-all and to hang up her dreams of being bedded on her wedding night because the Draco Malfoy she knew would never touch her. That wasn't the worst bit though. The worst bit was when fucking Pansy said that it was Granger's fault Wood and Krum were dead because that's what happens to upstanding wizards when they lower themselves to associate with Mudbloods."

"Merlin, Draco. Tell me Hermione hexed her. Tell me you did something." Stori sniffled, cursing her pregnancy hormones while her heart ached for Hermione.

She'd only become semi-friends with the brunette due to Harry but she'd grown closer to her over the years and valued their relationship deeply. She was the first to admit she'd been overly jealous in the early days, but she'd since learned Harry and Hermione had never harbored any romantic feelings toward each other.

"I didn't hex her or anything, but I did shove her out of our flat and I sent Kingsley an owl. I don't know what happened. Granger just stood there, staring and then she started crying. Granger's never really been a crier and I didn't know what to do, so I called Harry. What else was I to do?"

"I don't think she's upset about Pansy. I mean, I'm sure it angered her, but Hermione's heard loads of shite from witches and wizards her entire life. I think the bit about Krum and Wood is particularly upsetting."

"Stori, she's asking for you. She won't open the bloody door for me, but she shouted for you. That's something I suppose. Fucking bugger of a day." Harry threw himself across Draco's sofa unceremoniously.

"Of course it's the pregnant woman to the rescue. Why didn't you Floo Ginny?" Stori struggled to her feet, internally swearing she was having twins by her size and lumbered down the short hall toward the bedroom.

"The Weaselette? Ugh. However did you manage with that one Potter?" Draco's lip curled as there was no love lost between himself and Ginny Weasley.

"With difficulty, Malfoy. Ginny's not that bad though. She's a pretty girl and all, she's just harboring so much bloody animosity it makes it difficult to deal with her. Did ya know Stori thought I still had designs for Ginny? Could you imagine? As if I would choose her over Stori?"

"Stori had a bit of trouble at Hogwarts. People sort of assumed she was a bit of a bitch like her sister. Remember Daphne? That witch is a piece of work. I wonder which unlucky wizard is going to get saddled with her."

"Stori was a bit of a bitch but it was a coping mechanism really. She acted horrid since people expected her to be horrid. Once you get past a woman's defences, you see who they really are and it's beautiful."

"Potter. You sound like a woman. Stop it."

* * *

"What if she was right, Stori?" Hermione sniffled into a handkerchief while settled on Draco's bed. Stori laid on her side, patting Hermione's knee.

"Meo-Mio. Pansy is a tart. She's always been a tart, she'll always be a tart. She's had her eyes on the Malfoy fortune from the time she could walk. She's jealous. She'll always be jealous of you. Anyone with half a brain could see he was never going to end up with her. It would've been impossible as his eyes were always following you and she bloody well knew it."

"Stori, there's no need to attempt to inflate my nonexistent ego." Hermione chuckled despite her red rimmed eyes and the familiar melancholy which settled within.

"He cares about you. He might be complete shite at showing it, but he cares. If he didn't care he wouldn't have dragged Harry and I over in the middle of the fucking night to make sure you were alright. As for the rest? Ugh. Fuck Pansy. There's some psychotic tosser out there sure, but that doesn't mean they're dying because of you. Oliver Wood was a piece of work. Did you know that? He frequented the Wizard Club Nox. That's a shady place if there ever was one. Viktor Krum was a pompous ass. I'm sure there are plenty of people that wanted to do away with them. If it bothers you so much, get up off your ass, go through the notes, translate those runes and figure it out. You're Hermione fucking Granger."

"It's not that. It's not any of that. Well, alright! Don't look at me like that. It's part of it, but not all of it. Malfoy just stood there, which quite honestly I expected him to do exactly what he did. It was what Pansy whispered right before he tossed her out on her fat arse." Hermione cuddled into the royal blue duvet to stave off the chill in the air.

Stori rolled her eyes and flicked her wand, purring as the fireplace flickered back to life.

"What did the bint say then? Come on."

"She said that no one would ever know Malfoy as well as she did and it would only be a matter of time before he sought out someone else." Stori ignored the crack in Hermione's voice and the onset of new tears. She wanted to send Pansy Parkinson a scathing Howler but knew it wouldn't ease Hermione's anxiety.

"I fucking hate her."

"It just made me think. They were friends for years. Malfoy dated her for a stint. They were really close until the end of the war. I don't know what made everything fall apart but she made me realise I'm marrying Malfoy. He's practically a stranger and we've gone from office banter to engaged to shagging but I don't really know him and.."

"Wait. You've shagged him? I mean, I thought the two of you just snogged, quite a lot actually but shagging? Wow. I'm impressed Meo. I always thought you'd be that prissy and prim sort of witch that wouldn't shag a bloke until your wedding night. How was it?"

"Stori!"

"Oh c'mon then! I'd tell you about Harry but I don't think you want those sort of details. Just give me something. Was it good?" Stori wiggled her eyebrows as her stomach danced from her son's tumbling.

"I haven't anything to compare it to now do I?" Hermione blushed.

"You're blushing. It must have been bloody fantastic. I'd heard some rumours but Draco and I never had that sort of relationship regardless of what was said about us. As for the strangers bit, you're delusional. What's his favourite colour? How does he take his coffee and tea? What's his favourite food? Showers or baths? When he's nervous what's his physical tell? You know all these things and more. He's not a stranger. You can deny it all you like but you know him and he knows you. Perhaps you should spend more time talking to him about these worries instead of locking yourself in his bedroom. I'm bloody starving. Get up and fucking feed me. Your godson requires sustenance." Stori slid to the floor, thankful for her short stature and waddled to the door expectantly. She flung the door open and pointed toward the kitchen with a stamp of her foot.

"Blue. Not sky blue or royal blue, that shade in the middle. During the week it's morning showers, though on the weekend he prefers nightly baths. He hates peas. Coffee is black with sugar. His tea is despicable. Copious amounts of sugar as well as cream. He stutters when he's nervous and runs his fingers through his hair while staring at the ground. I don't know his favourite food, he bloody well eats anything. Now, Mrs Potter, what would you like to eat?" Stori's blindingly wide grin lightened Hermione's mood considerably.

"Something Muggle."

"Come along then, I suppose the boys are hungry as well."

* * *

Hermione bustled about the kitchen, humming while Astoria took copious notes and asked a multitude of questions. Draco and Harry were conversing quietly on the sofa, facing each other so they may watch their witches from the corner of their eyes.

"She's not crying anymore, that's good right?"

"One can never tell, Malfoy."

"She cooks?"

"You're in for a treat. Hermione's skills almost rival Molly's."

"If it tastes as good as it smells, I'm going to die a fat man."

"Oi! Potter, get the plates. Malfoy, suss out some drinks. Stori will need a glass of milk, but I'd love a glass of wine." Hermione flashed a brilliant smile over her shoulder, returning her attention to the pan on the stove.

Harry gave Draco a wink and an eager nod of encouragement as he got to his feet. He skirted around Hermione to pull down plates and glasses, trying to snatch a bit of chicken, which earned him a smack on the hands.

"Aww, NeeNee, mine, no you." Harry pouted, imitating his godson.

Draco observed their interactions with a twinge of jealousy. Harry and Hermione had an easy banter, filled with laughter and affection. He wondered if Hermione and he would ever come close to that sort of relationship. Draco chanced a glance at Stori to find a wry smile pasted on her face.

"You get used to it. They lived in a tent in the middle of the woods during the war. Ron had left them and they comforted each other. Not the way Slytherins would comfort each other, they were simply friends. Took me a long time to believe they'd never so much as snogged. If you watch them long enough, you learn it's more of a sibling relationship than anything. Harry lived in a closet and never had a sibling. Hermione lived with two parents who were overjoyed when she went to Hogwarts and encouraged to spend her holidays there as well. They connect on a different level." Stori murmured, her hand covering Draco's in an uncustomary show of affection.

They settled around the small table Hermione had dragged from Draco's study while she served up the Muggle fare.

"Stori requested Muggle food, Harry. She took notes and asked a ridiculous amount of questions so if you're lucky, she'll be able to recreate it."

"Or, if I like it, you'll just make it for me whenever I wish because you love me and I'm pregnant." Stori grinned, her mouth watering.

"What'd you make Meo?" Harry had adopted Astoria's singsong nickname in order to avoid calling her Mione. He didn't want to be on the wrong end of Hermione's wand.

"You'll see in a minute Harry!" Hermione whipped his bum with the tea towel before placing the large bowl on the table. She snickered as Draco and Stori glanced first at each other, then the bowl of unfamiliar piping hot food before shrugging.

"My grandmum was a wonderful woman. She loved me. I miss her, so much. She used to make this for me whenever my parents would send me to her house. Sometimes we'd bake cookies, muffins and even cakes but at the end of the day, we'd make this."

"That's lovely, Meo-Mio, what the fuck is it?" Stori banged her fork on the table, her stomach growling loudly. Harry covered his mouth to hide his snorts of laughter.

"It's macaroni and cheese, in a lovely béchamel sauce with bacon crumbles. There's also beer battered chicken and buttermilk rolls. Stori adores her carbs so I went all out. I can't remember the last time I actually had someone to cook for." Hermione smiled, as she scurried from the kitchen to the table, passing out chicken breasts and fresh rolls.

"I don't know what a carb is and I don't bloody care. Harry, I want a divorce, I'm marrying Hermione." Stori groaned in pleasure, her toes curling in satisfaction as the warm gooey concoction danced on her tastebuds.

"Sweet Salazar, Granger. This is bloody fantastic. I saw her first, you can't have her Stori." Draco sliced his chicken and mixed it with his heaping plate of macaroni and cheese. Hermione swore his eyes rolled back in his head from delight.

"I've had your grandmum's mac and cheese, this taste nothing like it. What did you do?" Harry questioned between mouthfuls, ignoring the frown from his wife.

"Harry, you know she made it from a box." Hermione blushed, still uncomfortable with compliments regardless of whether they were warranted.

"You made this from scratch?"

"Well, that's the best way to make it. It doesn't take that long. Same with the rolls." Hermione sliced into her roll and buttered it with her head down.

"Malfoy, you're a lucky man."

"Can't have her Potter. She's mine. Teach Stori how to cook."

"I'm right here! I can cook!"

"Not like this you can't. I've had your chicken. Though, it didn't resemble a chicken so much as a rock, but you tried. I ate it." Draco shrugged, helping himself to more macaroni and cheese.

"I grew up with house elves! There wasn't a reason to learn how to cook. My parents expected me to marry a rich pureblood wizard and continue having house elves. Instead, I married Harry Potter whose best friend is Hermione Granger so Merlin forbid we have an actual house elf to cook for us, so I don't bloody kill us all!" Stori shrieked, pounding her tiny hand on the table.

"Dink would teach you to cook if I asked him."

"I'll teach you Stori. I actually learned a lot from the telly. There's a channel specifically for cooking."

"I'm sorry I shouted." Stori sniffed while shoving bits of a roll in her mouth.

"They hurt your feelings because they're men and didn't know any better."

"Hey!"

"Oh shut up and eat."

"Granger, I never really had a favourite food, until now." Draco winked across the table from Hermione, waiting for the tell tale sign of her embarrassment. He wasn't disappointed.


	8. Bonding

**AN: Thank you for all the wondermous reviews. *kisses* - no one's guessed the identity of the serial killer yet...*le sigh* ..lol**

* * *

Chapter 8 - Bonding

"Hermione! Step away from the bloody parchment and get your arse over here. I'll not have you late to your own wedding!" Draco's flat was filled with the sounds of bustling witches. Astoria Potter's voice was ringing out over the din.

"We've time! I'm so bloody close!"

Astoria sighed dramatically while ordering Ginny to lock Hermione in Draco's bedroom until she showered. She gathered the papers strewn across the glass table, placing them in a neat pile on the bookcase. She hoped Hermione wouldn't go searching for them. They were running late as it was.  
Ginny Weasley dragged Hermione into the washroom, despite Hermione's protests and thrust her into the hot jets.

"Ginny, I don't have anyone to give me away."

"You should have accepted dad's offer. He would have done it." Ginny propped her leg against the washroom wall, fighting against the bubbles of fury clawing their way to the surface.

"I know he would have done it, Gin. I love your dad, your mum as well. I didn't want to be the cause of more tension between your parents and Ronald. I miss my parents. I don't want to miss them, but I do." Hermione scrubbed the sleep deprivation from her eyes.

"I've an idea actually. We're your family. I mean, all of us. You told me once some Muggle said something about choosing your own family. You've done that. We all love you. I'll send Luna in. She wants to do your hair." Ginny took a deep breath, vacating the washroom. She hoped the others would be receptive. She knew she wasn't their favourite person, but this wasn't for her, this was for Hermione.

"Ginny." Astoria did her best to keep her temper in check. She simply chanted, 'it's Hermione's day' to herself and pasted a smile on her full lips.

"Stori, uhm, Hermione's in a bit of distress, it's nothing you need to fix, swear it." Ginny held up her hands in supplication to the tiny witch.

"What is it then?"

"She's a bit distraught over..over.." Ginny swallowed, watching Astoria's eyes narrow and knew the pregnant witch was moments away from drawing her wand.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing! I swear it. She's missing her parents and.."

"Fuck. We thought of everything else, but not that."

"Lucius offered but."

"Oh absolutely not. I'm sure Arthur offered as well and Meo turned him down because of your git of a brother. She'd turn down Bill and Charlie as well. What's your idea then?" Ginny sighed in relief.

"We're her family. We're all her family, what if we..."

"Yes! That's brilliant!" Astoria impulsively hugged the fiery redhead with a wide smile. "You're really trying aren't you?"

"I am. Strange as it is, Theo really helps...calm everything down." Astoria's face crumpled, guilt etched in the furrow of her brow.

"Marry him. I know it's soon, too soon, but listen to me. If you care about him and he you, marry him. Run off and elope. You'll thank me later." Astoria clutched Ginny to her, hissing the words in the cacophony of witches.

"You know something..."

"I can't. I was sworn to secrecy. I'll say this much. Harry was supposed to Obliviate me. He didn't obviously. I know we've never been close but trust me. Marry him, Ginny."

"We're late! Come along then! Astoria, Ginny you're not even dressed yet!" Molly Weasley interrupted the private moment, waving her hands and giving orders. "Where's Hermione! We've nary an hour before the ceremony."

"She's with Luna."

"Oh my, you should have told me! Hermione's going to attend her ceremony with bloody birds and feathers in her hair!" Molly's brown satin robes flowed out behind her while she burst into Draco's bedroom.

"Wait until Narcissa sees Hermione. They had a heated argument recently. Hermione wanted to wear a Muggle wedding dress and Narcissa demanded she wear wizarding robes. Hermione wanted a traditional Muggle ceremony and Narcissa.."

"Mrs. Malfoy is just going to have to realise her son is marrying a Muggle-born." Ginny snorted, sipping a flute of champagne instead of downing it in one go. Astoria had to admit she was impressed.

"Help me into my dress would you?"

"You entrusted Ginny with your gown? What WERE you thinking?" Molly's hand patted her heart frantically as Luna removed the garment bag from the walk-in closet.

"I was thinking I didn't want to bloody go shopping. I was thinking I trust her since she knew exactly what I wanted. I was thinking anything was better than allowing Narcissa Malfoy to drag me around bloody London!"

"Of course dear, I gladly would have helped you.."

"I know, Molly, I know. I love you dearly, truly I do. I know it's been difficult with Ronald and I couldn't in good conscience add to the discord. I appreciate the offer though, truly I do. Now, let's take a gander at this dress."

"Your hair is lovely dear; I have to admit I was a bit nervous."

"Oh Mrs. Weasley, it seems the general consensus is I'm a bit off-kilter. It's alright, doesn't bother me a wit. Daddy says it's alright to be different even if others can't accept it." Luna's long blonde hair shimmered against the ice blue of her fitted dress as she flashed a brilliant smile toward the robust witch.

Luna unzipped the garment bag, revealing an ivory gown. Hermione sighed, her fingers trailing across the satin in awe. Ginny had captured the vision perfectly.

"Why, it's quite lovely. You requested this?"

"I introduced Ginny to the joy of Muggle pictures. They're called movies and I fell in love with a particular dress, except for the ridiculous bow across the bum." Hermione laughed as Luna turned the dress around to show it bereft of an obscenely large bow.

"I love Muggle pictures! Blaise introduced them to me. I'd wager it's due to Draco's influence. We have an entire library filled with those little cases. Which picture was it? Sometimes when Blaise is sleeping I sneak down and indulge." Luna's blue eyes were bright with excitement while she clapped her pale hands with glee.

"Malfoy sneaks over to my flat quite often to indulge as well. Ginny and I prefer the feminine films which he refuses to watch." Hermione allowed Molly to help her into the gown. Her fingers shook as she stared at her reflection in the floor length mirror.

"I see it now." Luna sighed, adjusting one of the many flowered pins adorning Hermione's up-do. "Bride Wars? Is that what it was called? The pretty brunette girl who didn't marry the one boy who was a bit of a prat?"

"You've seen it?"

"Blaise insisted. He's going to be over the moon to see you in this. That was a secret. I'm never supposed to tell he adores it." Molly's nimble fingers slid the satin covered buttons through their loops with tears in her eyes.

"Draco said to give this to you." Luna pressed a box into Hermione's hands before slipping out of the bedroom.

Hermione gasped staring at the exquisite sapphire pendant sparkling up at her from black velvet.

"Here dear, let me." Molly fastened the pendant around Hermione's neck, nodding in satisfaction as it danced just below her collarbone. "It's perfect. He obviously adores you."

"These were his grandmother's."

"Well, then it's only befitting they belong to his wife. Come along then. Why you lot insisted on your ceremony being held at this time of night is beyond me. Honestly. Teddy and Victoire have been asleep for hours. They're going to be quite put out to have missed it."

"The first time he kissed me was New Years." Hermione whispered, adjusting the barest hint of cap sleeves while Molly shook out her cloak.

It was her one concession. Narcissa demanded the wedding take place at Malfoy Manor. She demanded Hermione wear wizarding robes. She demanded Lucius escort her. She demanded the attendance of every witch and wizard she'd known in her lifetime, but Hermione would not budge.

Hermione was determined to have a ceremony which embraced both of her worlds. She was quite pleased when Draco had agreed. Therefore their ceremony was being held in the expansive back garden of Forest Lake, with warming charms in the billowing ice blue tents. Hermione was wearing a Muggle dress with a fur-lined ivory wizarding cloak. Her friends were wearing various shades of silver and blue, much to Narcissa's chagrin. She had protested, arguing for guests to display their house colours which Draco adamantly refused.

Molly pinched Hermione's cheeks, interrupting her contemplation, with a gasp of a proud mother.

* * *

"Ridiculous." Lucius Malfoy sniffed with disdain, eyeing the plethora of red haired witches and wizards bustling about.

"Ah Lucius, still as charming as ever." Arthur Weasley's blue eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Whatever are they doing?" Lucius ignored the subtle gibe, instead narrowing his silvery eyes as witches and wizards alike formed a line along the sides of the aisle.

He couldn't believe his only son, his heir no less, had agreed to a Muggle ceremony. Lucius shuddered in revulsion. He had dreamt of the day his son would stand beside his bride in the gardens of Malfoy Manor, surrounded by pureblood witches and wizards in a binding ceremony to rival all ceremonies. Instead, he stood in the fairly modest back garden of Forest Lake, surrounded by Weasleys. He was quite thankful the girl's parents were unaccounted for so he was not forced to associate with Muggles as well.

"Cheer up, Lucius. It's a wedding. Narcissa seems to be in good spirits eh?" Lucius thumped his ivory cane on the slate stone beneath their feet in irritation.

Narcissa Malfoy fluttered amongst the guests with a wide smile and a flush on her high cheekbones. She looked impeccable as always in pale blue robes, the edges sparkling with silver. Lucius envied her ability to adapt to unpleasant situations. She really was the perfect pureblood wife. Narcissa had managed to collude with Albus Dumbledore, securing their son's future as well as his life with a smile and a promise. She had used her Slytherin wiles in order to aid Lucius in seeing the benefit to their family. He was under no illusions, as far as his wife was concerned, that she would go to the ends of the very earth, battle with Lucifer himself to ensure Draco's future. He had to respect her immensely for that, even if he did not agree with the choice of bride for his son.

Hermione Granger was brilliant, there was no argument against that and Lucius knew it. It was her outspokenness which irked him the most. Narcissa was coy and subtle whereas Hermione Granger was a tornado. It was simply not proper for a pureblood wife to be so blatantly headstrong in public. Such things were to be reserved for the privacy of one's home. However, having witnessed Draco and Hermione's disagreements, he had to agree with Narcissa. Hermione Granger was a formidable witch who was perfectly suited to their son, regardless of her blood status.

"Bugger. Pansy Parkinson has penetrated the wards."

"That's most unfortunate."

"It seems even we were bound to agree on something, Lucius." Arthur bumped Lucius Malfoy's shoulder conspiratorially before venturing forth into the throng of guests.

"Isn't it lovely, Lucius?" Narcissa dabbed her eyes before clutching her husband's arm.

"That's not the word I would use while surrounded by Weasleys. Merlin, is that Xenophilius? Ridiculous robes, utterly ridiculous." Lucius snorted, patting his wife's hand. He lazily flicked his wand behind his back, transfiguring Xenophilius Lovegood's robes from a blinding yellow to a subdued shade of silver. The poor wizard hadn't even noticed while conversing with a scarred Weasley.

"Lucius, do not ruin this for them."

"My dear, I was simply aiding the decor. I don't recognise the witches there." Lucius gestured toward the guests which remained standing beside the rows of silver cushioned chairs.

"It's lovely. Ms Granger was having a moment. It was a bit distressing for her to realise her parents were unable to attend the nuptials. I, of course, offered your services, as it would be remiss for a bride not to be escorted by a paternal figure. She declined of course. She didn't wish to make Draco feel put out. She really is quite sweet, my dear. Arthur offered but considering the issues with their youngest son, Hermione declined that offer as well. The girl Weasley, I can't be expected to remember all their names, there are so many of them after all, she made a suggestion which everyone simply adored."

"Cissa dear, while you are absolutely enchanting, as usual, my question still remains." Lucius sighed, used to his wife's prattling. He supposed the ceremony was due to begin momentarily as guests were hurrying to their seats and Kingsley was making his way toward Draco.

"Oh, yes of course. I don't know if I remember all their names. Alright then. There's Astoria Potter, you remember her, don't you dear? Draco's little friend? The Weasley boys. Bill? He works with Hermione. Fenrir scratched him a bit, but he's lovely just the same. Charlie. He works with dragons. George? I'm not sure; he used to be a twin. Neville Longbottom. Don't bristle, Lucius. He's come a long way. Luna Zabini, she married Blaise, can you believe it? Minerva. I'm so glad she came. Harry Potter, of course, can you imagine Hermione Granger getting married without him?"

"Cissa..."

"Yes, my love. Alright, Chang? I believe that's her name. She's the little Asian girl. Those two boys there. One is Dean, the other is Seamus, I believe they're a couple if I'm not mistaken. Fleur Delacour. She's a Weasley now. Padma Patil, she's a twin. The tall dark girl, I believe is Angelina Johnson. She played Quidditch. I think that's all of them!" Narcissa beamed, obviously proud of herself.

"Ms Parkinson breached the wards." Lucius commented nonchalantly, keeping his voice low.

* * *

Draco stood beside his parents, his heart pounding so loudly in his ears; he was unable to hear anything besides his own breaths. Blaise Zabini kept murmuring comforting words to ease his nerves, but quite frankly he was a bit of a mess. He saw Harry and Arthur rush off toward the house and part of him wondered if Hermione had changed her mind.

"Malfoy, pull yourself together, you're going to sweat through your robes before the ceremony ever starts."

"I'm not wearing bloody robes, Zabini. It's called a suit. They're quite comfortable actually. I'm wearing a cloak so my mother doesn't faint."

"Why would she faint?"

"She wanted us to wear robes. She went on and on about it. Granger refused. I thought she'd appreciate it if I wore something Muggle." Draco adjusted his long, black cloak while casting a quick *_Scourgify_*. Blaise was absolutely correct in his assumptions.

"What if she.."

"She's not changing her mind." Blaise sighed, wishing he had remembered to fill his flask.

"How do you know?" Draco rubbed the back of his neck while taking shallow breaths.

"Take a look for yourself."

* * *

Pansy Parkinson slipped into Draco's flat with her heart in her throat. She knew she wouldn't be welcome. She fully expected to be hit with a multitude of hexes before she uttered a word, but she had to try. She smoothed the front of her pale pink dress, tucking her wand in the sash at her waist.

"Please don't hex me." Pansy's voice wavered as the conversation came to a complete standstill.

"What are you doing here?" Astoria was the first to speak. Her first instinct was to hex the glossy brunette, until she saw her thin beige lips waver.

"I need to explain, that night.."

"You! You're not welcome here!" The air crackled with Molly Weasley's magic.

"Molly." Hermione emerged from Draco's bedroom with her dress hidden beneath her cloak.

"Are you sure, dear? We're late as it is..." Molly huffed yet deferred to the bride.

"She's come here for a reason. I'd like to hear what she has to say. She can simply come with us." It was obviously the last thing her guests expected Hermione to say, yet they slipped into their cloaks in preparation to leave.

"It-it's not necessary. Not really, I don't want to take too much of your time, it's just.." Pansy's knees shook as her dark eyes took on a glassy sheen.

"Molly, would you take Stori and Ginny to the house please? Luna can stay behind with me. If we haven't arrived fifteen minutes prior to the ceremony, send Harry." Hermione turned to Pansy, dismissing the others without another glance.

"Th-thank you." Pansy nodded, her sleek dark hair fluttering around her face. Luna smiled, taking a protective sort of position to Hermione's right.

"I'm assuming it's something of great importance which couldn't wait."

"I tried before. I sent a few owls, but Draco wouldn't respond to them. He added protections to the wards so I couldn't simply show up, but I knew they'd be lifted today. I took a chance."

"Alright then, I'm listening." Hermione gratefully sipped from the offered flute of champagne, waiting for Pansy to collect herself.

"I work for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I've been an Inspector for just over a year. We've been investigating the wizarding club Nox. It seems they've had an influx of disoriented witches come morning. We've discovered its an illegal potion. Similar to certain Muggle drugs." Hermione motioned for Pansy to sit. Pansy sunk gratefully into a blue armchair, wringing her hands.

"Nox? That's the last place Oliver Wood was spotted. Viktor Krum as well if I remember correctly."

"Yes, exactly right. After collecting the scant bit of evidence at Hogwarts I went to Nox to question the personnel. I made a mistake. I wasn't thinking. I was so tired. You have to understand, Hermione. The things I said, the things I did? That wasn't me. I mean, physically it was me, but I don't think that way. I don't feel that way. I haven't had designs on Draco since sixth year to be quite honest."

"Why would you say those things then? Do you truly hate me that much?" Luna shushed Hermione, covering the bride's hands with her own.

"No! That's what I'm trying to tell you. I had a glass of firewhisky. I shouldn't have, I was still on duty, but like I said I made an error in judgement." Pansy began to cry then, letting the tears run her makeup without wiping them away.

"What happened?" Hermione was rapt with attention, leaning forward to grasp one of Pansy's hands.

"They teach you to never leave your drink unattended. I was always thought it was a bit silly. Whenever you move to another section of a crime scene investigation you never leave your things behind. I-I needed to use the loo and left my drink on the bar. When I returned, I finished it without thinking. I couldn't think. I mean, I was thinking, but I couldn't control my thoughts let alone my movements. I _had_ to see Draco. It was a compulsion. I couldn't stop myself. It was silly really, I didn't even know where you lived, but I came across Padma and followed her after Disillusioning myself. The moment I saw him my skin was on fire. I was twitching and tingling everywhere and I had to touch him. I had to feel him. I was shouting within myself to stop, but I couldn't. I hated myself in that moment. Then I saw you and I was overcome with a blinding rage. I had to be as hurtful as possible. I was never as grateful as I was when Draco thrust me from the flat. I still couldn't breathe but most of the compulsions had waned. I managed to get myself to St Mungos."

"It was the drug wasn't it?" Pansy sighed in relief. She had hoped against hope that if anyone would understand it would be Hermione Granger and she wasn't disappointed.

"Yes. Exactly. They call it Imp. Some of the Healers referred to it as Implio. I overheard a few of them talking and the effects of it are quite detrimental. It's as if some dark witch or wizard bottled the Imperius Curse in liquid form and laced it with Obliviate. If I had fallen asleep before arriving at St Mungos, they said I would have no recollection of the things I had done. I would almost prefer it, but then you and Draco would detest me. I was so afraid. Draco's fancied you for so long, that's why I stayed away. I didn't want you to think I was still obsessed with him or anything. I wanted him to finally have his chance and one mistake could have ruined it. I'm so bloody sorry." Hermione was speechless. This wasn't the haughty witch she remembered from Hogwarts. This was an intelligent, contrite woman who was filled with shame.

"You did throw yourself at Draco in Diagon Alley, Pansy. Harry told me all about it." Luna's serene smile was a bit unnerving when paired with her biting words.

"Actually, that wasn't me. It was my younger, fatter sister, Peony. She attended Beauxbaton's and the minute she came back she decided to emulate me of all people. She's the reason I've grown my hair. She stole my trademark bob and my favourite dresses which she managed to squirm her less than attractive form into. She's despicable and it doesn't surprise me in the least that Draco thought her to be me. She is me. The worst parts of me." Pansy shuddered, the corner of her lip curling in derision.

"Hermione, if we don't leave now, Harry's going to be most put out."

"Yes, you're right of course, Luna. Pansy, come along then." Hermione stood, gathering her cloak around her.

"Y-you want me to come to your wedding?"

"Obviously. You weren't in control of your faculties Pansy; I'm certainly not going to hold that against you. I'm sure Draco would appreciate having another of his oldest friends in attendance. Blaise, Theo and Astoria are in attendance, what's another Slytherin? Come along then."

* * *

Hermione stepped through the wards of Forest Lake flanked by Pansy and Luna. She was terribly nervous, more than she was willing to admit. She found herself being lead up the half dozen steps and stopped at the ornate front door.

"What if he.."

"He'll be there." Luna smiled knowingly, peaking through the frosted glass beside the door.

"Oi! Hermione! You're here! Quick! Parkinson..." Harry's jaw dropped open in shock, cutting off the rest of his words succintly.

"Yes, Harry. I'm here. Luna's here. Pansy's here as well. I've invited her. You are not going to argue with a bride on her wedding day, now are you, Harry Potter? No, I didn't think so. However, perhaps later in the evening you'll find a spot of time to speak with Pansy. I think you'll find what she has to say very interesting."

"Er, yea sure, Hermione, whatever you like. Kingsley is ready whenever you are and considering you and Malfoy have it timed down to the minute, it might be best to get started." Harry offered a tight smile to Pansy while offering his arm to Hermione.

"It's most unusual to hold a binding ceremony so late.." Pansy frowned in confusion.

"It's a fusion ceremony actually. Hermione wished for some Muggle traditions. Draco and Hermione decided to reenact their first kiss. Terribly romantic, isn't it?" Luna skipped past Harry her ice blue gown billowing out behind her.

"Uh Pansy, why don't you go with Arthur, he'll show you to the ceremony site." Pansy gave Harry a small smile of appreciation and allowed herself to be lead away. Her eyes met Hermione's and she waved.

*_Thank you_* She mouthed over her shoulder the moment before they stepped through the French doors leading to the back garden.

"Are you ready? Are you sure?" Hermione nodded not trusting her voice.

Quite honestly she was terrified, but she couldn't confide her anxiety in Harry. He'd be the first person to tell her she didn't need to do this. He'd willingly whisk her away to parts unknown and tell her everything would be fine. She loved him for it, but she was unwilling to hurt Draco. Hermione wasn't positive he would _be_ hurt, but if there was a chance, she wasn't willing to take it.

They had formed an easy sort of relationship. They spent their evenings in front of a crackling fire, sipping glasses of wine with easy conversation. Hermione returned to her flat at the end of the night after a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. She hadn't slept with him since the evening he'd shown her Forest Lake and he hadn't pressed her. They laughed, they argued and they shared. Hermione had grown closer than she expected to Draco and found herself valuing their unlikely friendship. Astoria had been correct in her assumptions. They _did_ know each other. They understood each other's hidden pain and discussed it, which drew them even closer together.

"Do you want me to take your cloak?" Hermione blinked her eyes rapidly, peering through the French doors to see their guests seated beneath a large tent. The fairy lights twinkled in the night sky and she supposed a few Warming Charms had been cast as well.

"Molly's going to remove it before I walk." Hermione whispered, squeezing Harry's hand in a vise grip.

"Alright then, I have to take my place." Harry gave her a quick hug and hurried through the doors.

"NeeNee! Comin!" Teddy Lupin screeched, drawing the eyes of every guest. He leapt out of Andromeda's lap and raced down the silver aisle to latch himself to Hermione. Hermione laughed and picked up the toddler, gasping as his hair morphed into a pile of golden brown curls.

"Teddy, I have to go see the Minister now.

"Kings!" Teddy shouted, pointing at the burly black wizard standing near Draco.

"Yes, that's exactly right. Now, do you think you could sit with your grandmum? No? Alright. How about if you go and stand with Malfoy. You remember Malfoy don't you?" Hermione chuckled at Teddy's antics. He was definitely going to keep things interesting at Hogwarts.

"Mal!" Teddy pointed at Draco with a big smile, his hair instantly sleek and platinum blonde.

"Very good, Teddy. If you go wait with Malfoy, I'll make sure you get an extra piece of cake. Just don't tell Harry." Hermione kissed Teddy's cheek and set him on his chubby little legs. Teddy raced down the aisle, his little arms pumping.

"Mal! NeeNee comin'!" Hermione found herself holding her breath, hoping Draco would pick up the unruly child and he didn't disappoint.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Molly stood before her, unclasping her cloak full of eager smiles. Molly purposely barred Draco from catching a glimpse of his bride, by fussing over Hermione more than necessary. Ginny fluffed Hermione's train, using her wand to remove flecks of snow as well as a few wrinkles.

"It's time, dear. Remember; don't bother glancing at your guests. Keep your eyes on him. You'll see your guests later; you'll only see his reaction once." Molly stretched up on her toes to kiss Hermione's cheeks.

"Don't trip, those shoes are killer." Ginny patted Hermione on the back and moved to stand beside her mother.

The guests didn't stand. The wedding march wasn't played. There was something eternally peaceful about the silence. The collective gasp as Molly and Ginny separated, baring Hermione to probing eyes.  
Later, Hermione would admit Molly had been absolutely correct. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing her feet to move.

"NeeNee long time." It was Teddy's adorable whine which made Hermione raise her chin and meet the stormy grey eyes she'd become accustomed to.

Draco's jaw dropped slightly, his breath caught in his throat. He blinked rapidly believing his eyes were playing tricks on him. Hermione winked, effectively knocking him from his stupor. He didn't think his heart could take much more until she began to move. Hermione walked slowly with a small smile and a bright flush. Confusion furrowed her brow for a moment as she passed her friends and surrogate family. Their wands were held firmly over their heads, forming an arch over Hermione's head. Draco had never seen such a thing and he suspected Hermione hadn't either. He felt as if it were hours before she finally reached him. Blaise cleared his throat, breaking the silence as he took a squirming Teddy from Draco.

"Hi." Hermione whispered, a sparkle in her brown eyes as she looked up at him.

"You're here." Draco whispered back, wanting only to snog her senseless regardless of their present company.

"Sonorus. Tonight we are joining together the two souls of Hermione Jean Granger and Draco Lucius Malfoy." Kingsley Shacklebolt began. His voice sounded through the back garden easily with the use of the amplification charm.

"First, as is the Muggle tradition, the question must be asked." Draco's eyes darted from Hermione's, flickering over the heads of their guests. His unfamiliarity with Muggle wedding ceremonies caused his anxiety to rise and if it hadn't been for the reassuring squeeze on his shoulder from Blaise, Draco was sure he would have hyperventilated.

"Who here gives this woman in marriage?" Hermione gasped, nervously nibbling her bottom lip. The shuffling of feet and a few murmured 'pardon me's' caused her to turn.

Draco reached out to brush the tears which had formed on Hermione's cheeks. There was a group of witches and wizards he easily recognised, standing below them with smiles.

"We do." They answered as one and Hermione had never felt more loved in that moment.

"Let us begin." Hermione didn't remember a single word of the ceremony. She hoped Draco never asked her. Instead she focused on his eyes, the movement of his lips as he spoke, the timbre of his voice and the feel of his hands in hers. She knew Kingsley was melding Muggle and Wizard and she trusted him.

"Mr. Malfoy, repeat after me." Kingsley fumbled with the notes in his hands, searching for the exact phrases. Hermione hadn't specified the sort of vows she wished, but Kingsley had done his research.

"With this ring, I give you my heart. I promise from this day forward, you shall not walk alone. May my heart be your shelter, and my arms be your home." Draco's hand shook as he slipped the platinum band onto Hermione's finger, nestled against her sapphire engagement ring.

"Yesterday, I was in darkness." Hermione's voice trembled; Draco gave her a bit of a half smile, giving her hand a squeeze. "Today, you're here and I know, tomorrow will be brighter."

After Hermione slipped Draco's ring onto his finger with trembling hands, Kingsley directed them to clasp arms. Draco was immediately more comfortable. This was something he was quite familiar. He had seen his fair share of wizarding bonding ceremonies.

"Tonight, we celebrate a bonding of magic and of love." Hermione knew Harry was rolling his eyes at the Ministers declaration.

"It is a sacred bond. May no witch or wizard tear it asunder." Kingsley peered over Draco's head to give a meaningful glare to Lucius.

"Do you, Hermione, accept Draco Malfoy, knowing he will unintentionally cause you pain, knowing he will disappoint, knowing his pain will become your pain, his tears your tears? Will you accept him as your partner, your friend, your lover? Will you accept his intentions of love and bind yourself to him for all your remaining days?"

"I-I shall."

"Do you, Draco, accept Hermione Granger; will you knowingly accept her into your family, your life and your heart, knowing she will unintentionally cause you pain and disappointment? Will you accept her pain as your pain, her tears as your tears? Will you accept her as your partner, your friend, your lover?  
Will you accept her love and devotion and bind yourself to her for all your remaining days?"

"I shall." Kingsley touched his wand to their bound hands and smiled grandly over the crowd.

"Before your friends and family, we bless this union of two souls. Today they are one. Their souls have spoken and declared them bonded." Silvery wisps escaped Kingsley's wand.

Narcissa gasped, clutching her husband's forearm as the wisps became threads of red and green, melding together to form the brightest of blues before disappearing. She found Molly Weasley among the throng and they locked knowing gazes.

"Mr. Malfoy, you may kiss your bride."

"Apparently I now have a wife." Draco smirked before allowing himself to give in to temptation.

Hermione laughed, the sound being muffled by soft lips pressing against hers, searching, nibbling, probing and she melted. They ignored the subtle clearing of throats, the snickers, and the coughs, until Lucius clapped his son on the shoulder.

"Son, there will be plenty of time for that later, it's unbecoming." Lucius hissed over the flair of fireworks bursting in the air, signifying the New Year.

"Happy New Year, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione kissed Draco's cheek, pulling back from his insistent lips.

"Happy New Year, Mrs. Malfoy."

"MY NEENEE NO YOU!"

* * *

"Your mum and Molly are spending an extraordinarily unusual amount of time chatting. I wonder what they're going on about." Draco spun his wife on the makeshift dance floor in order to distract her. Instead he spied his mother gesturing wildly in the corner of the tent and Molly Weasley nodding rapidly. Inwardly he groaned, knowing nothing good could come of it.

"Teddy is quite put out. He gave me a ridiculously mottled lecture. Told me how I stole you from him even if girls are 'yucky'. We worked everything out of course." Hermione placed her head on her husband's heart, the gentle thumping lulling her to a sense of calm.

"What did you promise him then?" Hermione laughed lightly, well versed in Teddy Lupin's manipulation. Draco's arms tightened around her as their steps slowed.

"Our first daughter. He would accept nothing less."

"Just how many children do you think we'll be having, Malfoy?" She snuggled into his chest for the warmth as much as the unexpected contentment.

"According to the Weasel, you'll have a dozen blond haired demons, but I'm not thoroughly convinced he knows how many are actually _in_ a dozen."

"Ugh. Ron, he's so...he's just so..."

"Poor?"

"Malfoy! Don't be rude!"

"Is it considered rude if it's the truth? Please, dear wife, enlighten me."

"You're incorrigible." Hermione threw her head back with laughter, lightly smacking her husband's chest.

"I'm a Malfoy."

A blinding flash interrupted their moment and Draco turned with a scowl. Arthur Weasley smiled and waved, depressing the shutter button on his Muggle camera at anything that moved.

"Oi. Hermione, next year? Buy dad something magical would you?" George rubbed his eyes, spinning Ginny furiously.

"Weaselette is looking ill. Can we retire now?" Draco kissed Hermione's temple.

"Malfoy, what of our guests? We can't just..."

"Granger..." Hermione hid her amusement. Part of her had a soft spot for Draco Malfoy's juvenile whine.

"Malfoy. I'd like a bit of cake, actually." He grumbled, yet led her toward the towering confectionary concoction.

* * *

Narcissa smiled, greeting guests and tendering to their comforts with a perfunctory air. She was a woman on a mission and nothing was going to stop her from having a word with Molly Weasley. While she was never particularly close or fond of the brassy red haired witch, there were much more important things than semantics.

She had settled Lucius at a semi-private table as far from Arthur Weasley as possible. She hadn't the slightest notion why Arthur was so insistent on seeking out Lucius, but Narcissa was decidedly against her only son's wedding reception being disrupted by a duel. Her husband was a difficult man, yet he was easily placated with sugary concoctions of the chocolate variety. A thin smile graced her pastel lips as she observed Lucius chortling over cupcakes beside Xenophilius Lovegood.

"Lovely ceremony wasn't it, Narcissa?" Arthur smiled brightly, his thin reddish hair frizzing against his shiny head.

"Delightful, tell me, is your lovely wife about?" If Arthur hadn't thoroughly enjoyed multiple glasses of champagne he would have been suspicious of such a question. Instead he gestured behind him, determined to escort Narcissa through the dancing couple.

"Yoohoo! Molly, love. Narcissa would like a word." Molly was a bit grateful for the interruption. She didn't necessarily detest Pansy Parkinson, she barely knew the girl really. It was simply a matter of being unable to abide completely aimless chatter and it appeared Ms Parkinson was an avid fan.

"Molly, I'd like a moment, unless of course you're otherwise engaged?" Narcissa arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow over Molly's head toward Pansy.

Pansy suddenly discovered her pink kitten heels demanded her rapt attention. The Malfoy Matriarch had always intimidated her, even during the scant months she had dated Draco.

"Don't mind me. I need to have a word with Bill. Thank you for a lovely evening." Pansy curtsied of all things before slinking away in the shadows.

"You saw it then?" Molly stared up at the formidable blonde witch, knowing Narcissa Malfoy had an agenda when it came to conversing with Weasleys.

"Of course." Narcissa sighed deeply.

"Saw what then?" Arthur smiled brightly, hiccuping.

"Their magic of course!" Narcissa resisted the urge to slap the inebriated wizard, allowing Molly to take the lead.

"What about it? Was lovely, yes? Reminding me of our magic, besides of course ours was red and red, but still, the brilliant blue at the end. Delightful!" Arthur snatched another flute of champagne off a passing tray, lifting it with a lopsided smile.

"Yes, Arthur and why do you think our magic did that?" Molly smiled, yet Narcissa smirked knowing the rotund witch was gritting her teeth.

"Well, we were expecting Bill of…oh Merlin." Arthur suddenly felt as if his limbs were refusing to cooperate. He was vaguely aware of Molly leading him a cushioned chair and forcing his head between his knees.

"Not a word, Arthur."

"Yes, yes, I'll just...stay right here then." Arthur groaned. Molly nodded curtly, adjusting her brown satin robes and gripped Narcissa's elbow in an iron grip.

Narcissa allowed it, not feeling an ounce of the revulsion she had expected at such contact. They finally found themselves near the corner of the billowing tent. Their eyes immediately perused the crowd, spotting Draco and Hermione dancing intimately.

"Do you think they're aware?" Narcissa wrung her hands nervously.

"Why? Afraid a half-blood child will mar the Malfoy family tree?" Molly spat, her fingers wrapped around her wand within the folds of her robes.

"What a load of rubbish. Contrary to popular misplaced opinion, I do not hold the same ludicrous ideals as my husband. Frankly, I resent the implication." Narcissa sniffed with an aristocratic disdain others would find quite intimidating.

"One can never be too sure, considering the Malfoy history, now can they?"

"They're obviously oblivious." Narcissa succinctly sidestepped the thinly veiled barb. Molly caught a glimpse of the newlyweds sipping from champagne flutes while they indulged in wedding cake.

"I was much the same way when expecting Bill. Arthur and I hadn't the faintest notion. It was our mothers who informed us. We thought they were taking the piss."

"You think we should inform them?" Narcissa flinched over Molly's crude language, but she supposed the situation warranted it.

"Merlin, no. Let them enjoy themselves while they can. They'll find out soon enough." Molly laughed heartily, resisting the urge to hug the matriarch.

"I'm..I'm..going to be a grandmother." The reality of it all came crashing down around Narcissa Malfoy with a vengeance. She was hard pressed to keep her tears at bay.

"Think of all the shopping."

The clinking of glasses interrupted their reverie and they turned their attention toward a laughing Draco Malfoy. He had scooped his bride over his shoulder in the middle of the dance floor, a hand resting across her bum. Hermione laughed, kicking her feet lightly as he gave her a bit of a swat.

"Oi! You lot! Clear out! I'd like to shag my wife!"

* * *

"I can't believe you just announced like that. In front of everyone, I'm so embarrassed." Hermione huffed with indignation the moment Draco allowed her feet to slip to the floor.

Their guests were drinking and laughing while saying their goodbyes. There were promises of lunch dates, shopping and afternoon teas followed by the distinct pops of Apparition.

"I've never shown you all of the grounds. There's a carriage house, just past the expanse of trees. My parents will be staying there tonight. It seems my father imbibed entirely too much champagne and cake. Mother doesn't want him to splinch. Molly and Arthur will be staying there as well. Strange to see how well they got on."

"Your parents and the Weasleys? Oh I hope they don't resort to a duel. You know how your father is." Hermione began pulling the pins from her hair.

"Don't. Leave them." Draco's hands caressed the bare skin of her shoulders, his breath warm against her ear.

"D-Do you think Harry and the boys got home alright?" Hermione stepped forward, her heels clipping across the cream tile in the unfamiliar room.

"Bill, Charlie and George are actually downstairs. There's a travel room for the Floo. It's a nice little area actually with more than enough room for them to sleep it off." He took her hand, leading her up the staircase toward the master bedroom.

"We have a travel room?"

"Of course, makes it easier to keep the riffraff out. There's a sizable bathing pool downstairs as well. It's next to the Potions lab and the research library."

"Malfoy, are you telling me Forest Lake has two libraries?" Draco nodded sweeping her into his arms. He carried her down the hall and into their room.

He hadn't really taken notice of the colour schemes or furniture while he dressed for the ceremony. He had been more nervous than anything yet now, he found himself gazing appreciatively at the cream textured wall coverings in the hall, the strategically placed art and the absolutely divine shade of blue splashed across the bedroom walls.

"I-I thought..." Hermione nibbled her bottom lip, searching the nuances in Draco's expression for disapproval.

"It's perfect." Hermione found herself with her feet solidly on the ground, Draco behind her, his hands on her shoulders just as they were downstairs.

"I uhm…"

"Let's get this off you." Draco purred into her ear. He pulled the pins from Hermione's hair, tossing them over his shoulder. When his hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms, her breath caught.

"Nervous?"

"Y-yes, actually, I uhm." Hermione shook her head, attempting to clear the rapidly forming fog.

"Me too."

"I don't understand. Why would you be nervous? It's not as if you haven't done it hundreds of times with...with..." She spun to face him, suddenly aware of their close proximity.

"Granger, stop." His fingers raked through his hair. He walked through the bedroom, leaving Hermione to stand in confusion. He ventured toward the washroom, and turned. "Coming?" He smirked over his shoulder.

"You didn't answer me." Hermione loved the way her dress swished around her as she walked and found herself moving toward Draco. She watched him spin the taps, presumably to fill the ridiculously large tub.

"No, Granger, I didn't." Draco slipped off his shoes, kicking them into a corner.

"Tell me?" She watched his fingers as they slipped his suit jacket off his wide shoulders, folding it in half and placing it over the vanity chair.

"You first."

"I-I don't know. It's not as if we've never...but it's, different, I suppose." Draco nodded slowly, his hands moving toward the buttons on his white dress shirt.

"Exactly. It _is_ different. For your information, I haven't slept with hundreds of witches, hundreds of times. Yes, I've been with others, you already know this but.." Draco grit his teeth, shoving his shirt to the floor.

"But...what?" Hermione stepped into the washroom completely, closing the door behind her. She tossed a handful of pleasant smelling bath salts into the steaming water and waited.

"You're my wife. I've never had one of those before and it changes everything." He strode forward and kissed her then. Hard, unforgiving, as if he needed to prove to himself she was real and she was his.

Nimble fingers removed satin buttons from their loops and Hermione's dress was pooling on the floor. She stood self-consciously before her husband, toying with the word internally. Her first instinct was to cover herself from his darkened silvery eyes, but she couldn't force her limbs to cooperate.

Draco's lips parted, looking at her with new eyes. He'd seen her spread before him on satin sheets, but he'd never truly studied her. He found himself appreciating her ample bosom, the subtle inward curve of her waistline, the rounding of her hips. Her bustier amplified her assets in a way he found most delectable. Draco offered her a hand, as she stepped out of her gown, allowing him to maneuver himself behind her.

Part of him wanted to bend her over the side of the tub the moment he spotted the scrap of lace barely considered knickers. He found himself releasing the numerous clasps on Hermione's bustier, barely grazing her skin with his knuckles. He watched it fall away from her flushed skin before sending her knickers quickly following.

Draco loved watching her chest rise and fall with her eyes shut tight. The little pants escaping her plump lips, the wanton pucker of blush peaks, and he decided he wanted to know her, know all of her.

"Bathe with me." It wasn't what she was expecting. Draco's voice was soft and unsure instead of harsh and demanding yet Hermione found herself nodding. She stepped carefully over the side of the tub, sinking into its steamy depths with a soft moan.

The water truly was delectable. It soothed the ache in the arches of her feet, the tightness in the small of her back, and she reveled in it. While Hermione was adjusting to the healing qualities of the water, Draco stripped off his remaining clothes and climbed in behind her. She naturally slid back into his arms, her head lolling against his chest.

"This is nice."

"Nice? With an intellect such as yours, that's the best you can do?" Hermione studied Draco's knees peeking out of the hazy water and couldn't resist the urge to touch them, ignoring his teasing words. She found herself drawing runes on his thighs, using the smattering of bubbles around them.

*_Beautiful. Attraction. Love*_

"Why are you drawing runes in soap? Am I not entertaining you Mrs. Malfoy?" Draco plunged a white cloth beneath the water, lathering it quickly.

His fingers danced across Hermione's back, the cloth painting swirls down the length of her arms until goose pimples rose. Hermione groaned as the knots in her muscles dissipated into nothingness.

"Mmmm. You're really good at that. Had a lot of practice have you?" Instantly she regretted it, but it was already said. The cloth paused, hovering over the crest of her breasts.

"Actually, no. I've never bathed with anyone." He toyed with the wet ends of her curls, pulling them straight, letting the cloth float away.

"Why not?" Hermione was honestly curious.

His forefinger caressed her abdomen, sinking into her navel. His mouth laid the barest hint of kisses down the column of her neck. Her fingernails dug into the pale skin just above his knee, yanking the pale blond hair. His right hand covered hers, stilling it's sensual movements while his left sunk into the crease of her hip, constantly moving forward, teasing the illusion of curls, spreading her legs against his, brushing her folds until she moaned.

"I was never interested in intimacy." Draco nipped her earlobe, chuckling as she shivered, despite the heat of the still water.

Without warning, he rose from the bath, hefting Hermione in his arms. Draco didn't bother to towel her supple body dry nor his own for that matter. He didn't cast a drying charm or anything else to distract him from his mission.

Carefully he laid Hermione in their obscenely large four poster bed, her hair dampening the gray and silver duvet beneath her. She wasn't completely comfortable with her body, nor with being on display but all thoughts on the matter ceased to exist when Draco covered her body with his own. She felt as if she were being consumed by him. His eyes roved her every inch, his hands quickly following. She pulled him closer, clutching him to her breast, her petite hands stroking his back, her legs entwining with his. Every space between them was entirely too much space and they pressed together with pants and murmured affections.

He wanted her, the way he'd never wanted any woman before and knew he'd never want anyone else. They fit as if they were two pieces of a puzzle left scattered across a long forgotten table, rediscovered, as the dawn broke over the horizon. His hands were lost in her curls, his lips exploring every contour of her face. She writhed beneath him, flattening her breasts against his smooth chest as she clung to his shoulders.

"Draco." The sultry moan, laced with a need he quite understood almost broke his revelry. His throbbing hard length twitched on her thigh and she thrust her pelvis upward with impatience.

"Patience, love." He twisted his hips, teasing her core, chuckling as her hands fisted the sheets, her mouth groaned in frustration.

Hermione linked her legs behind his back, shoved against his shoulder and flipped him onto his side. She continued to push him, tucking her hair behind her ears until she straddled his waist. She attacked his lips with a fervor, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, her teeth nibbling his bottom lip before moving on to his earlobes, his neck, her fingers grasping his hair in her fists.

"Can't wait." Hermione mumbled reaching between their bodies, adjusting her hips with a sigh as she felt him slide into her.

"Baby, baby, slow down." Draco flipped them over, bracing himself on his elbows. His movements were slow and steady, agonizingly slow, at least Hermione thought so.

"Draco, please, faster."

"No. I need it slow. I need to look at you. I need to see you." He dropped his forehead to hers, kissing her lips sweetly.

The burn was a slow rise, a gentle simmer building through their movements. Her stuttered pants and strangled moans were almost the end of him, yet as she bucked beneath him, meeting his thrusts and her eyes darkened in the moments she came undone, he watched her. His stormy eyes never left hers. She fought to keep her murky brown eyes open, almost preferring if they rolled back in her head, yet she knew, he needed this, whatever it was. She felt her back arch of its own volition as the ecstasy rolled over her like a waterfall, cascading through her until it settled at the bottom. As he felt her clench around him, her fingers embedded in his alabaster skin, her eyes locked on his with the unfamiliar yet stimulating flutter in his chest, he ground himself into her hips, yanking her body against his and with a gasp he shuddered, allowing the wave to flow over him.

"Is..is it always like that?" Hermione asked later, with his head resting on her breast, her fingers toying with his hair.

"No baby, it's not." He caressed her hip before pulling the covers over their exhausted yet satisfied bodies. He kissed her cheek and pulled her into his side, his eyes drooping while the sun rose.

"I'm glad." She whispered, her curls spread over his shoulder, her fingers resting over his heart.  
Something had shifted between them. They hadn't a name for it, yet it was comforting, it was satisfying, it was home.


	9. Headway

**AN: I apologise in advance for my Italian...but i'm sure you'll survive n stuff n things n yeah. love love love your reviews. thanx! *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 9 - Headway

* * *

"I still don't understand why we're here. We didn't need to travel to Rome to stay in bed. We could have done that at home." Hermione harrumphed loudly, flouncing into a bistro chair on their terrace.

Truth be told, the view was to bloody die for, but she was restless. They had spent the first week of their honeymoon in Switzerland as she'd always wanted to see those particular snowy peaks. The second week they had spent in France, which was almost expected of them. Their third and final week landed them in Rome.

She wanted to wander the cobblestone streets and visit museums yet every time she brought up the very idea, Draco would cajole her back into bed. Not that she was complaining really, it was quite enjoyable.

"Potter would be sending us bloody owls, my mother would be popping in unexpectedly, Blaise would Floo us to tell us all about Luna's convoluted theories on Wackyspurts or whatever the fuck they're called. In order for me to properly shag my wife senseless, I simply had to take her out of the country." Hermione laughed, watching the sunset behind the historic buildings.

Draco wasn't wrong. In fact, he was more than accurate with his assumptions. She pulled the white sheet tighter around her and glanced over her shoulder. Draco was balancing a silver tray in his hands laden with enough food for the Weasleys, but that wasn't what drew her eye. It was the thin silvery scars across his chest. He wouldn't let her touch them anymore than she would allow him to touch hers. It was an impasse which made Hermione feel a touch of melancholy. She bit her bottom lip, taking in the way his silk, navy blue lounge pants sat just so on his hips, enticing her, as he placed the tray on the side table.

"Actually, we have quite a day tomorrow. I quite honestly didn't know what you'd prefer. I brought a little of everything." He watched her every move as she made her selections.

"You're staring."

"No, I'm studying. I'd like to know what you prefer. Though, you'd think this being Italy the macaroni and cheese would be better." Draco rolled his eyes, poking the bowl of gelatinous muck with his finger.

"Malfoy, it's a wizarding hotel. We'll find a lovely Muggle Italian bistro tomorrow. Where are we going?" Hermione half filled a bowl with Greek yoghurt, topping it with a variety of fresh fruit and granola. She licked the spoon with a wink.

"You keep looking at me like that and we're not going anywhere." He growled then, waving his fork in her direction. He really was quite insatiable as far as his wife was concerned, not that it troubled her in the least.

"I'll behave, for now. Tell me then."

"Actually we've an appointment. We'll have brunch along the way, perhaps I can even persuade you to do a bit of shopping. Once we're there, I'm not going to have sex for the rest of our honeymoon and I've resigned myself to that most unpleasant fact." Draco pouted, snatching some sort of melted yet crispy sandwich from the tray. "Sweet Merlin, what is this? It's delightful." He moaned as the meat and cheese melded together in his mouth.

"It's just a Panini, Draco. It's a fried sandwich basically. We can make them at home. I'll teach you. If you plan on having sex with your wife tonight, you'll bloody tell me."

"No, I don't think I will. I'm well aware of your dislike of surprises. I suppose I'll have to have the Panini's keep me company since my wife is spurring my affections." He sunk his teeth into the crusty bread, moaning loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes, yet at the same time, she was thankful he had better table manners than Ron.

* * *

Despite her earlier protests, Draco Malfoy did manage to bed his wife, numerous times throughout the night. He woke quite chipper, hurrying his wife to ready for the day. Hermione on the other hand was irritated.

Draco kept vetoing her ensembles. Sundresses were too revealing considering it wasn't summer. Muggle jeans weren't proper attire for Malfoy women on holiday. Just when she was ready to hex him in the bollocks regardless of how it would be detrimental to her, he emerged from the wardrobe in their hotel suite with a smile.

"Here. Don't argue, Mrs. Malfoy." He sauntered into the loo, leaving her alone with his choice.  
Hermione grumbled yet inwardly cursed. It was perfect; of course it was bloody perfect. Merlin forbid Draco Malfoy was ever bloody wrong about anything. With a huff, Hermione thrust her toned legs into the grey pinstriped slacks and pulled the cream cowl necked sweater over her head. She situated her hair into a messy sort of bun on top of her head to show off the earrings Draco had purchased her.  
He was quite put out there didn't happen to be a matching pair of earrings in his vault which matched her engagement ring, bracelet and pendant. Draco being the wizard he was, commissioned a jeweler to rectify the situation for an exorbitant amount of money. Hermione would have been furious, but in the end, their beauty won her over. She slipped the dangling sapphire and diamond earrings in and smiled as they swayed.

"You're fucking beautiful." Draco had donned his customary black slacks, pairing it with a cerulean dress shirt which brought out the flecks of blue in his grey eyes.

He kissed her then. Not because he wanted another tumble in the sheets, which he absolutely did. Not because she was expecting it, which she wasn't. Simply because he was overcome and couldn't resist her; which made it that much more special. However, before he allowed himself to get carried away, which was his favourite pastime during the last few weeks, he broke away and led her to the door.

"Did you see that quaint little bookstore?" Hermione pulled against his hand as they wandered in the streets after a leisurely brunch.

"Of course I did, hence why we're still moving. You always promise we'll only stop for a minute and the day is over. We're not missing our appointment. You'll thank me later, promise." Draco pulled her into his side. It wasn't simply to stop her from visiting yet another bookstore. He detested the way the Italian Muggle men ogled his wife. He was a Malfoy, which made him a jealous and possessive man. If he needed to jinx the men to keep them away from his wife, well that was exactly what he was going to do. As long as his wife didn't catch him.

"That's Vatican City." Hermione stumbled which had nothing to do with her red wedges, she was in awe to be standing before so much history.

"Yes, you're very astute. Come on then." Draco smirked, slowing his gait in order to allow Hermione to gape open mouthed at the sights.

When he nonchalantly stopped before an impressive building, he thought she was going to faint.  
"This is the...the..Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana." She breathed, her free hand over her heart.  
Draco led her up the stone steps, allowing her a moment to compose herself in the alcove. She was squeezing his hand so tightly he wondered if she was fracturing the bones.

"Baby, no, over here." Hermione had started for the impressive entrance, her eyes shining with delight.  
She frowned yet followed him to a door hidden near a ridiculously large topiary. Draco rapped the plain wooden door three times quickly, then again slower. A small, weathered wizard with the longest white hair she'd ever seen, baring Dumbledore, stood patiently on the other side.

"Name." His gravelly voice was quite a shock, yet his no nonsense attitude, reminded her of Severus Snape.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. We have an appointment."

"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy. This way please." Hermione had quite frankly expected the wizard to speak Italian, his British accent causing mild surprise.

She stepped through the door with Draco's hand on the small of her back which gave her a bit of comfort. They followed the small wizard in his flowing blood red robes down ornate passageways, obviously hidden from prying eyes in the Vatican Library.

"Be seated. He will be with you momentarily." The wizard gestured toward red and gold brocade armchairs before a gold fireplace.

Draco led her toward the chairs, forcing her to sit in one before taking the other for himself. He ignored her glare of frustration, knowing she would remain silent. Wordlessly he reached into his back pocket and flicked his wand. Hermione was quite surprised to see her leather messenger bag lying across Draco's knees, yet she grit her teeth with determination. She wanted to ask Draco a million questions yet she knew, from the half smirk and raised eyebrows, he wasn't going to reveal anything.

"Scusi please. You come." A lanky, ebony haired wizard smiled at them, gesturing wildly for them to follow him through yet another nondescript door.

Draco shrugged and offered his hand to Hermione. She scoffed yet gripped it gratefully as they were lead through another maze of passageways.

"Go. Go now." The lanky wizard bowed with an overly bright smile as they came to the end of a long corridor. He pushed open the tall white door, waiting until they ventured forward before shutting it.  
Hermione blinked, adjusting to the blinding white walls. Everywhere she looked, it was white. A blinding white which made her head begin to ache. She closed her eyes, breathing through her nose, willing herself to adjust quickly.

"Come. Sit." She hadn't heard anyone enter, yet perhaps he had been there all along.

She cracked open an eye and found herself staring into eyes black as pitch. She took a step forward then another before sinking into the white armchair. Draco pressed her messenger bag into her hands and smiled at the older wizard. Hermione observed Draco incline his head toward the wizard and receive the same in return. During their silent exchange she studied him. He wasn't old, yet he wasn't necessarily young. It really was hard to pinpoint such things considering how long wizards lived in comparison to Muggles. His robes were the same blinding white as the walls, the floor, the chairs and the table. She wondered how he didn't find himself constantly stumbling. She wondered if he had his hair magically removed as there wasn't even a hint of new growth on his shiny head.

"I am Yuri." Hermione toyed with the name, her lips moving without sound, waiting for him to expand on such a statement.

His dark eyes rolled and he snorted when Hermione's gaze remained decidedly blank. He gestured toward Draco, his fingers curled and wrinkled.

"Love, this is Yuri Blishen." Hermione's mouth dropped open not half a minute after hearing the words.

"Show then."

"Y-you wrote Advanced Rune Translation." Hermione gasped, hugging her messenger bag.

"Hmph. You say...she...bright, yet...she say...hmm...she like..."

"She has a tendency to state the obvious. Yes, I'm aware." Draco sighed. He crossed his foot over his knee, waiting for Hermione's shock to dissipate. The silence grew and he knew Yuri was becoming exasperated.

"Granger. He's a very busy man you realise. I had to call in a lot of favours to receive this appointment. It's not as if Yuri Blishen was just going to allow us to knock on his door. I thought perhaps, you'd enjoy speaking with him." Hermione blinked rapidly and began to nod. Her trembling fingers reached into her messenger bag and she withdrew a small stack of parchment covered in runes and possible translations.

"Ah yes, I see now." Yuri held out his hand expectantly and Hermione didn't waste a moment placing the papers in his outstretched hand.

"I've been working with the British Ministry on a series of murders. The bodies are mutilated post mortem with runes. I've been trying to find a connection between the victims but I haven't been able to.."

"New eyes. Yes. This good here, this one? No." Draco smiled as he watched Yuri Blishen, author of Ancient Rune Translation and Hermione Malfoy née Granger pore over runes.

"I thought that meant.."

"No. Is wrong."

"But in your book, I distinctly remember you saying.."

"No."

"What do you mean no?!"

"Hmm. Rune like tree. Tree strong. Tree good. Tree big roots. Storm come. Tree no move, tree die. Tree rip from dirt. No more tree." Yuri scratched out Hermione's translations with short swipes of his quill, correcting them as easily as breathing.

"So, you're saying...runes change. They have to change like a tree has to bend otherwise they'd become obsolete?"

"Yes. Come. Look." Yuri's crooked fingers drew invisible lines between runes, nodding and smiling as Hermione continued the journey with her own forefinger.

"I see. By itself, this particular rune means..

"Yes." Draco was very surprised Hermione's face wasn't as red as a Weasley. She detested being interrupted yet she took it in stride.

"When it's next to this one it means.."

"Yes. Molto buona. Very good. She good." Yuri grunted at Draco, attempting to draw him into their stilted conversation.

"Merlin, Malfoy, I've been looking at this all wrong. Marietta only had the one rune and it was carved into her forehead. I should have paid attention to that. I used an old translation when trying to decipher it because I'd never seen that particular one before."

"You've done it then?"

"It wasn't just one rune. That's why I had so much difficulty. It was multiple runes embedded on top of each other. Mr. Blishen showed me a special bit of magic to separate them."

"Granger..."

"Malfoy. Whoever murdered Marietta Edgecombe knew."

"Knew what, love? You're being incredibly cryptic..."

"They carved 'traitor' into her forehead, Malfoy." Draco leapt from the armchair, hurrying toward the white table covered in parchment.

"Is it common knowledge then? What she did, I mean. If it's not, our list of suspects has shrunk considerably."

"I-I don't know quite honestly, I mean, everyone in the DA knew the parchment was charmed. They...we knew she betrayed us, yet there's no telling how many others were told after the fact." Hermione shuddered, chewing the end of her quill.

"What of the others? Have you made headway with them?"

"Corner's rune wasn't an issue. It doesn't necessarily make sense, but I didn't know him particularly well. His simply said 'creep'. I suppose I should really speak with Ginny about it. She dated him for a short time during Hogwarts. Krum and Wood well..." Hermione sighed, struggling with her inability to decipher the cryptic message.

"No. Is...no finish. Is uhm, how you say...mancante.." Yuri shook his hands in frustration at their collective confusion. "Incompleto."

"The message is incomplete?" Draco sucked the air through his teeth.

"Si. No finish."

"Malfoy.."

"Yes love, I know. We have to go home, there's going to be more."

"No. I mean, well yes of course, but, if we take Corner out of the equation..." Hermione chewed the end of her quill, while she tucked an errant curl behind her ear.

"Why would we do that?" Draco paced the white room, trying to make sense of Hermione's thinking patterns.

"Just bear with me, Malfoy. Edgecombe, Krum and Wood. What did they have in common?"

"Hogwarts, well not really. Krum went to Durmstrang but he did come to Hogwarts during the Triwizard..." Hermione tapped her foot against the white tile impatiently.

Yuri reclined in his white brocade armchair, sipping a cappuccino while observing the couple. They really were well suited to each other. The girl with the intellect and the angry man.

"Malfoy. Ugh."

"Well, why don't you tell me then? You _do_ know everything after all."

"Rude."

"It's obvious I haven't the foggiest what you're going on about."

"Marietta Edgecombe was a member of DA. Therefore she had considerable contact with all the members. Viktor Krum was a celebrated Quidditch player who had considerable contact with Harry Potter and me. Oliver Wood was Captain of the Quidditch team therefore he..."

"So they all knew Potter. Do you think he's being targeted? Just what we need. The Golden Boy of Immortality being targeted by some deranged murderer. Fantastic."

"Her too." Yuri interjected, nibbling the corner of a lemon biscuit.

"What about her?" Draco was immediately on the defence, his grey eyes narrowing in contemplation.

"I-I jinxed Marietta. I dated Viktor a bit, during fourth year and..." Hermione swallowed, watching the tick in her husband's cheek leap in silent rage.

"Wood as well then?" His voice was quiet, soothing almost, yet the feral possessiveness hung just beneath the surface.

"It was one time. One date. We went to dinner, I allowed him to walk me home. He..He...pushed the boundaries and well I.."

"What. What did you do Mrs Malfoy?" Hermione cringed and closed her eyes.

"I bloody hexed him, alright? Are you happy now? I sent a swarm of canaries at his head and engorged his...his man bits and covered him in boils. Never spoke to him again."

"Wow, Granger, remind me never to get on your bad side. His man bits though? Seriously?" Draco crossed the room quickly and hugged her. She wasn't expecting such a reaction yet found herself melting into him. The smell of fresh linens and masculine spice filling her senses. Despite the tension and the implications, Hermione was giggling into his chest.

"Thank you. I still hate surprises but.."

"You're welcome." Draco cut her off, completely unwilling to subject himself to yet another Hermione Gra-Malfoy monologue.

"Is good. Is...how you say...tu l'ami" [you love her] Hermione frowned, suddenly hating her inability to communicate.

" Naturalmente io amo lei, uhm é impossibile non. Per favore non dirle." [Of course I love her, it is impossible not to. Please don't tell her.] Yuri nodded curtly, his frighteningly dark eyes roving the petite witch in Draco's arms.

"Dille presto." [Tell her soon] Yuri stood with a surprising quickness and rounded the oblong white table. He embraced Hermione, kissing each of her cheeks and shook Draco's hand. "Ciao." And they were once again alone.

* * *

"I didn't know you spoke Italian." Hermione had been unusually quiet during their leisurely walk through the Vatican Library and Vatican City.

Draco hadn't wanted to probe knowing she was contemplating every speck of information provided by Yuri Blishen. He had learned from years of working with the potentially volatile witch she detested interruption, especially when she was on the cusp of discovery.

"You can't spend years in the Slytherin common room with Blaise Zabini and not pick up a bit of Italian." He shrugged.

It was partially true. When Blaise Zabini's temper got the best of him, which was more often than not, he segued into angry Italian. Draco Malfoy of course had learned the language in order to converse in the midst of the Slytherin common room without having to fret about the wayward eavesdropper.

"What did you..."

"Granger, we've got to hurry. I arranged a portkey to leave within the hour and we've still got to pack." Draco cut her off, knowing exactly what she was going to ask.

"Was it related to the case?" They hurried to their suite, their wands swishing and flicking as their belongings floated from their various locations into their luggage.

"It was personal."

"You expect me to believe you have a personal relationship with Yuri Blishen?" Hermione stamped her foot, irritated with her husband's blasé attitude.

"Granger, I spent many a summer with Blaise at his mother's villa. Of course I know Yuri. I grew up around many witches and wizards of influence, not only in Great Britain but in France and Italy as well. Who do you think I bloody owled whenever you were traipsing around the world with Bill? Can't we discuss this at home?" Draco slammed his luggage shut and closed his eyes.

He didn't want to argue with her. He didn't want to feel as angry as he did. It wasn't a sin for him to love his wife, he knew this, yet as much as he knew she cared for him, he couldn't help but wonder how much was out of an obligation to a wizard long dead.

"Fine." Hermione whisked into the washroom mumbling under her breath.

When she returned carrying an armload of toiletries, he noticed the purple circles under her eyes, the slouch of her shoulders.

"What was that, love?"

"I _said_ my name is _not_ Granger, not anymore. If you're so bloody averse to using my name, then find something else." She was right he realised. He'd never once called her Hermione, or Mione or even the ridiculous nickname Astoria clung to.

"I've...I've always called you Granger. It would be strange to call you anything else. You're Granger. My Granger. You must admit Hermione is a bit of a mouthful. What were your parents thinking?"

"As if you're one to talk with a name like Draco? Ugh. You're impossible." He felt that tingling in his chest again, the one which only bubbled forth when she spoke his name. He wondered if that's what it would feel like for her, if he called her Hermione.

"Hermione." She shuddered and shook her head.

"You're absolutely right. It's horrid. It's not that I don't like my name, it simply sounds completely wrong coming from your lips." Draco smirked as he walked slowly towards her, closing the space between them easily.

"Granger. Baby. My NeeNee, no you." She laughed then, her eyes bright with amusement until his lips crashed to hers, swallowing the sound.

* * *

"Hermione!" Harry shouted, his dark hair refusing to lie on his head, his arm high in the air waving erractically.

"We're here, Harry!" Hermione pushed through the throng of wizards in the Ministry atrium to reach her friend.

"Can't believe you missed your portkey. I thought Kingsley was going to have a bloody coronary." Harry laughed, swinging his friend in circles, ignoring the glares.

"Blame Malfoy." Hermione blushed and Harry found himself shivering in revulsion at the very idea of his Hermione naked with Draco Malfoy.

"Oi. Potter. It was our honeymoon. Can't blame a bloke for that." While Harry had always suspected there was a hidden attraction between the two, he never envisioned them marrying, despite Hermione's debt to Dumbledore; nor had he considered the idea of them actually being happy together.

"Please. Stop. I don't wish to have the image of my best mate shagging you, Malfoy." Harry faux gagged, causing a smattering of witches to scatter.

They ventured toward the lift, hanging tight as it zoomed through its horizontal and vertical madness until they found themselves in the Minister for Magic's office. They poured over parchment and photographs analyzing every speck of evidence, trying to narrow the broad spectrum of suspects into a manageable number.

"This is impossible." Draco groaned, rubbing his forehead vigorously.

"I don't understand a bloody thing she's saying, so do I still need to be here?" Harry was reclining on Kingsley's green sofa with his head propped on the arm lazily.

"You're a tosser, Potter."

"You're still a git, Malfoy."

"Would you two bloody grow up?!" Hermione threw the tome she had been studying across the room, not even flinching as it smashed into the wall.

The air crackled with her magic making her hair frizz out from her head, dislodging her hasty bun. Kingsley snickered. All the years he had known and been fond of Hermione Granger, her explosive temper never ceased to amaze him.

"Perhaps if you started at the beginning, Mrs. Malfoy." Kingsley's dark brown eyes twinkled over his tea cup of firewhisky.

"Kingsley, don't you dare go formal on me now. You might be the Minister but you're not above a good hex." Hermione paced the room angrily, her wand gripped tightly.

"Hermione, start at the beginning. We're all well aware that your brain never sleeps. I'm simply asking you to think aloud so we may all make a bit of sense of this madness."

"Perhaps over a spot of tea then." Hermione twisted her hair into a knot at the nape of her neck while nodding intently.

"I'll have whatever the Minister is having." Harry wiggled his eyebrows knowingly. Kingsley rolled his eyes, yet opened the bottom drawer of his mahogany desk to withdraw the bottle of firewhisky.

"There are four bodies. Based on the reports from Patil, Edgecombe died first, followed by Corner. Corner was discovered first due to his post-mortem location. We never would have found Edgecombe if her mother hadn't informed us she'd taken a Muggle holiday."

"Wood and Krum were discovered on the same day on Hogwarts grounds no less. Patil's report said..." Draco flipped through the folder impatiently.

"They were killed within hours of each other." Hermione concluded succinctly. Draco wanted to be irritated with her, but found he couldn't. She really was a bloody know-it-all.

"Yes, yes we know all that. What about the runes then? Any headway?" Harry sipped from a chipped tea cup, wiggling in delight at the burn sliding down his throat in the most delicious of ways.

"Yuri Blishen says the runes aren't complete, which Malfoy and I took to mean this...this...serial killer for lack of a better term isn't finished yet."

"Oh how is old Yuri? Strangest thing I've ever seen. Bald headed little wizard with terrifying black eyes, Russian no less with the thickest bloody Italian accent."

"Ugh. Does everyone know him? He's _fine_! Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Draco snorted. Hermione really was quite lovely when she was furious. Only she would have the gall to reprimand the Minister for Magic with her hands on her hips, no less.

"I might be a bit pissed, but I am still the Minister, _Mrs. Malfoy._" Kingsley attempted to smirk, but it came out looking as if he were pained which sent Harry into a fit of the giggles.

"As I was saying! Harry, pay attention. What did Edgecombe, Corner, Wood and Krum have in common?"

"That's easy!" Harry smiled broadly, quite proud of himself. "Me. Well, you too for that matter. Well...fuck."

"Precisely."

"You knew she dated Wood?" Draco turned on Harry, snarling with a projected disgust.

"Oi! It was before she married you. It was just the one date. She fixed him right good, complete tosser."

"Harry, stop talking." Hermione's face paled considerably.

"Remember when you jinxed that parchment for the DA? I thought it was brilliant. I'm sure Marietta didn't but then again she shouldn't have...well, fuck." Harry slapped himself in the forehead and groaned.

"Edgecombe and Corner only had one rune. Wood and Krum have...er had considerably more. Did you translate them yet?" Kingsley broke through the tension by pouring himself another tea cup of firewhisky and holding the bottle just out of Harry's reach.

"Actually yes. Edgecombe's rune says 'traitor'. Corner's says 'creep' which he was a bit of a creep, just ask Ginny." Hermione laughed, clamping her hand over her mouth.

"Yuri showed her how to separate the runes. They're interlaid. Wood's runes are a bit intricate but they're not a complete thought."

"Who cares? Tell us then!" Harry waved his wand, accidentally setting off a few red sparks which set Kingsley's discarded cloak on fire.

"In my torment. It's not exactly right, the first word is giving me a bit of trouble and well.."

"Let me see, love." Draco snatched the parchment from between her fingers, perusing it with drawn brows.

"Through. It's through my torment. Look," Draco flicked his wand, filling the air with twinkling golden runes. "They were interlaid as well, you see?"

"I dislike you." Hermione pouted before flouncing onto the green sofa beside Harry. He propped his feet onto her lap with a crooked smile, offering her his tea cup.

"Krum's say 'you shall see'. I suppose if we put it together it's Traitor, creep, through my torment you shall see. Doesn't make a bit of sense unless..."

"You remove Edgecombe and Corner from the scenario." Hermione sighed, burying her face in her hands.

"Cheer up Hermione. Have a bit of firewhisky. It makes everything better."

"Harry, you're impossible. I don't want any firewhisky, frankly it smells terrible. We're no closer to narrowing the suspects. I'm not an Auror. This is not my job! I'm bloody exhausted and I want to go home." Hermione threw Harry's legs onto the floor, and shoved her stack of papers into her messenger bag.

"Granger, are you alright? You look a bit flushed." Draco took in the pink hue decorating her cheeks, the exhaustion was blatantly written on her face and he was quite concerned with her well being.

"I'm just..I'm so tired, Malfoy." She rubbed her eyes, trying to erase the lingering tiredness she couldn't quite quell.

She felt the tears pricking the corners of her eyes and was angry with herself. She was never this emotional. She was the intellect behind the Golden Trio. She kept a cool head in the face of danger, torture and death. Hermione Granger didn't bloody cry because she was tired.

"Come along, love. Aw no, Granger, d-don't cry. Please don't cry." She felt the tears dripping onto her hands, down her cheeks to her lips and almost welcomed their salty moisture.

Draco eased the messenger bag from her hands, bringing his arms slowly around her, even as she stiffened. He looked to Harry helplessly, but the blasted Boy Who Loved Firewhisky was shaking his arse while standing on Shacklebolt's sofa.

* * *

When he finally got her home after ignoring all the well wishers at the Ministry, he carried her directly to bed. Draco helped her undress, crooning sweet nothings as he slipped a long sleeve, sea-foam top over her head. Hermione murmured in contentment at the feel of the fleece against her cool skin. She crawled under the pale blue sheets, allowing Draco to tuck the white duvet around her even as she shivered. She closed her eyes, sighing as pale fingers brushed her forehead until her eyes closed.

"What do you mean I'll understand eventually? She's been sleeping for three days. I wake her and pour some broth down her ridiculously stubborn throat and she's asleep again. She does use the loo, which I suppose is a good thing. Bill's been sending owl after owl, it's obvious he needs her assistance but I.."

"Ohh Draco, darling. She'll be fine. She's simply exhausted. She's been working tirelessly on whatever assignment the Minister has assigned her. Never-mind your whirlwind romance which lead to an impressively gorgeous wedding and while you both were supposed to be relaxing on your honeymoon, she met with Yuri Blishen and worked. Of course she's exhausted, darling." Narcissa Malfoy surveyed the tastefully decorated space with a practiced eye as Draco burst through the french doors for a spot of fresh air.

There was only so much of his mother he could take before his anger got the best of him.  
She hadn't been the least impressed when her son had informed her the Muggle-born witch was decorating their home, yet found herself quite pleased with the end results. Even Narcissa had to admit the colour palette of each room melded with the next and the art pieces drew the eye, neglecting of course the Muggle Pollack painting near the staircase. She simply couldn't fathom its appeal.

* * *

"Hermione, dear, Draco will be thrilled to see you're up. Come and sit, we'll have Dink bring us a spot of tea." Hermione ruffled her mussed curls self consciously, yet found herself sitting beside her mother in law in the living area.

She nodded in appreciation as the settee surrounded her in comfort. Draco had insisted on having the very best and in this aspect he was correct. It really was lovely, even in the shade butter yellow she'd been adamant against.

"Dink." Hermione knew Draco's house-elf was never far away when there was company in Forest Lake.

"Yes, Missus." He bobbed his overly large brown head with a wide smile.

"Would you bring us a full tea service please? If we have any of those cucumber sandwiches that would be fantastic." Hermione smiled as Dink popped away to do what he was asked.

"How are you feeling dear?" Narcissa fussed over the tea service, refusing to allow Hermione to fix her own plate, let alone pour her own tea.

"Famished. I'm still so tired, which I don't understand. Malfoy says I've been sleeping for days yet it doesn't feel like it."

"That's to be expected." Hermione found Narcissa's cryptic smile slightly unnerving yet she didn't comment on it. It was well known Narcissa Malfoy oozed a Slytherin calculation which rivaled her husband's and Hermione was to drained to contemplate Narcissa's intentions.

"Nee! You're awake! Oh, Teddy's going to be thrilled. He's been pitching quite a fit since he discovered we returned and haven't visited." Draco swooped into the room full of smiles and his mother noticed the tension ebbing from his stance.

He crouched beside his wife, absently shoving soft brown curls from her cheek.  
"Nee? Really?" Hermione shoved bits of cucumber sandwich between her lips, reveling in the feel of the silky texture against her tongue.

Draco shifted Hermione over on the settee until she was practically on his lap to her great embarrassment. Narcissa waved the unspoken apology away with amusement. She enjoyed seeing a lighter side to her son, regardless of who had brought it about.

"Well. We decided calling you Hermione is simply ridiculous and makes my face do terrible things. You detest being called Mione, which one day you must explain to me. Love and baby are perfectly fine yet it's a bit too personal in public situations. Teddy, Merlin love that child, calls you NeeNee and since I am not a toddler it's not entirely appropriate yet I am quite fond of it, hence how Nee was born." Draco snatched the last bit of sandwich from her plate with a wink.

"It's not the worst thing I've heard I suppose. Have I received any owls? I've been waiting to hear from Bill. He's been working on a particularly difficult piece."

"Oi, the wanker's been owling incessantly. I stopped giving his blasted bird treats and he still delivers." Draco 'Accio'd' the envelopes from the table in the foyer and thrust them onto Hermione's lap.

She tore into them eagerly, the slight smile on her lips while Draco ran his fingers up and down her spine dissipated upon opening the latest bit of news.

"Bill wants me to travel."

"We just got back. We haven't even been married a month and he wants you rushing off to...where this time?" Draco scowled and Narissa tapped her lips with her fingertips, hiding her smirk.

"He doesn't want me to leave today, Malfoy. He's asking if I can take a portkey to his location in a few days time. He's working under time constraints. Apparently an old pureblood family wants a particularly heinous curse removed from a family heirloom and while he's more than capable, once again, it's been altered. I wonder if Bill's case is related to our cases."

"Why would you think that?" Draco fixed himself a spot of tea when he really wanted a firewhisky, yet knowing his mother as he did; he resigned himself to overly sugared tea.

"He's done a bit of translating and he has a theory. He's been owling incessantly because he's requesting a spot of my blood. Don't look at me like that. Just a drop or two which I can return in my owl. He can see the runes surrounding the piece yet when he tries to arrange them they alter themselves and simply provide him with my initials. If his theory is correct than I'll be the only one capable of breaking the curse on the piece. At least the first curse. It should only take a few days at most. If it makes you feel better, Malfoy, you can come with me." Hermione smiled brightly then, kissing his cheek quickly.

"How many curses are normally involved when it comes to family heirlooms, Hermione?" Narcissa found herself intrigued by this knowledge.

"It depends on the family really. Some have hundreds and it can take years to break through all the wards and protections. I suppose what really matters is how long the family has existed. The older the family, the more layers there are. Each generation adds their own brand of wards which makes everything really tedious. I worked a piece for the Parkinsons and it took a month, whereas with the Greengrasses it took almost a year. I wouldn't even attempt to imagine how long it would take with a Malfoy piece." Hermione bit her tongue, realising her faux pas too late.

"It seems the Gryffindor Princess isn't as well informed as one would believe." Narcissa's aristocratic features never wavered, yet Hermione could see the calculated coldness in the matriarch's blue eyes and the decided chill in the air.

"What mother meant to say was we uhm donated our family artifacts to the Ministry. They're used for the training of Aurors and on a case by case basis by the Gringott's Curse Breakers." Draco stiffened considerably yet patted his wife's hand regardless.

"I-I didn't mean.."

"Please, Ms _Granger_, do not insult my intelligence. Draco, darling visit us soon." Narcissa pecked her son's cheek and stepped into the Floo without a backward glance.

Hermione had not missed the glaring snub, nor the way her husband avoided her prying eyes. She felt suffocating pressure in her chest and couldn't bear to spend another moment in his house. As often as Draco stressed it was _their_ house, his mother's use of the living area Floo begged to differ. It was a family network and Draco still hadn't bothered to adjust the wards.

"And the honeymoon is over." Hermione mumbled while gathering the scattered owls into her ever present messenger bag. "Malfoy, I'm going to Harry's." She glared at the ridiculously ornate Floo, even if it was devoid of the gold, it would remain a source of contention.

"You never use my name." Draco sighed, his arms crossed over his chest, gazing out the window. "Will you be back for supper then?"

"I-I didn't know it was that important to you." Hermione thawed slightly, yet not nearly enough to go to him. "I'm not sure actually, Andromeda is bringing Teddy by and well.."

"Yes, yes, I know how that goes." Hermione nodded and made her way into the foyer, slipping into a pair of white trainers.

"You're not using the Floo? You've been ill. Do you really believe Apparating is best?" Hermione glared at him over her shoulder with such venom, Draco balked.

"Why _Draco_," She spat, slinging the strap of her bag over her head, "If Apparating isn't the best, than _surely_ walking down all those bloody stairs to use the Floo in the travel room would be too much as well."

Draco was left to feel the reverberation of the door slamming, left in the silence of his own making.

* * *

It had been a week since Harry had caught her when she stumbled into his kitchen. He hadn't been expecting her, yet that had never mattered. He had ushered her to the table and thrust a butterbeer into her trembling hands. Hermione had dropped her head to the table, her hair covering every inch of her face. She had groaned even as Harry prodded her side with his wand.

He remembered her taking a swig of the butterbeer and belching loudly before the contents of her stomach erupted all over his rustic kitchen table. He managed to get her to one of the guest rooms, despite her protests and her insufferable hiccuping.

Harry had always hated it when Hermione was emotionally distraught. It didn't happen often but when it did, it was a waterfall of unruly emotion. She'd cough until she vomited, and then of course was the crying while attempting to pretend she wasn't crying. Not to mention the inability to form coherent thought. He had half a mind to call Ginny, but since Astoria was visiting her parents, the very idea of his wife arriving home to find him alone with two women made him cringe. Instead, he suffered.

"No Ron you can't come through. I have company." Harry hissed into the Floo, trying to keep his voice as quiet as possible.

"Oi. Harry! I'm your best mate! Lemme in! We have an hour before our portkey leaves! We can't miss Quidditch Training Camp!" Harry groaned and found himself stepping backward to allow the boisterous ginger into his home.

"Just, be quiet alright?"

"Harry! Astoria is in France visiting her parents! What's it matter how loud I am?!" Ron smiled broadly, pulling on the hem of his Chudley Canons shirt and cramming the coordinating hat on his head.

"Uh, listen mate..."

"Harry? What's with all the racket?!" Harry ground his teeth together and drew his wand.

"Harry, is that...Hermione? Why is Hermione here? Does your wife know? Are...are you cheating on your wife Harry? D-do you...do you fancy Mione? I always knew there was something going on between you two, even back at Hogwarts. I can't believe that my.."

"Ron. SHUT IT!" Harry had always hated being caught in the middle of his constantly sparring friends.

"Hermione, owl your bloody husband. You've hidden out long enough. Ron, I'm not even going to entertain your ludicrous accusations. You know me better than that."

"Sorry Harry but she just..."

"Ron, I don't care." Ron grumbled his way into the kitchen and Harry was relieved to hear the cupboards slamming open as Ron scrounged for food.

"Harry, I don't want to owl him." Hermione's head popped around the corner of the corridor the moment Ron vacated the room.

Harry could see her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were puffed from hours upon hours of crying and quite frankly she looked like shite.

"You need to work it out. Listen. I'm going out. Ron and I made plans months ago to attend Quidditch Training Camp. Just send the bloke a bloody owl. I'm sick of the lot of you. Dromeda is dropping off Teddy this afternoon. I plum forgot." Harry waved, his smile waning as the fury built in Hermione's eyes.  
He grabbed Ron and rushed through the back door seconds before Hermione threw spells in their direction.

* * *

"NeeNee! NeeNee!" Teddy raced around Harry's house the moment his feet hit the ground.  
Andromeda Tonks laughter pulled Hermione out of her haze. She traipsed down the steps in her fuzzy fleece lounge pants and a thin smile.

"Hermione, I'd say it's lovely to see you, but child, you're a right mess." Andromeda embraced the haggard witch quickly, always maintaining a certain modicum of space between them. She knew, as much as it pained her, that Hermione still had bouts of anxiety. The last thing she wished was to create more havoc in the poor girl's life yet her resemblance to her sister was outside her reins of control.

"Hello, Andromeda. Would you like a cup of tea? I scattered a few Muggle toys upstairs for Teddy, should keep him occupied for a bit." Without waiting for an answer, Hermione set the kettle on the cooker and searched Astoria's cupboards for her tea leaves.

"My sister paid me a visit earlier this week. Strangest thing, really." Andromeda dropped gracefully into one of Harry's many dining chairs and tossed her brown mane over her shoulder.

"Really? Is it that strange? I thought the two of you had been in contact." Hermione stiffened and leaned over the sink basin, listening for sounds of mischief.

"We've sent a few owls between us. We did happen to go to a lovely little café in Diagon Alley for tea and crumpets but no this was different. She simply arrived at my home as if it were nothing out of the ordinary."

"It..it must have been quite a shock." Hermione stammered, "I hope everything went well." Hermione measured the tea leaves into the carafe before pouring the hot water. She rifled through the cupboards almost squealing with delight upon discovering unopened bags of crisps and another of lemon biscuits.

"It was. Narcissa was quite upset, really. I can't remember a time I've ever seen her in such a state." Andromeda smirked as Hermione's hands shook carrying the tea platter.

"Oh?"

"Yes. She's always had a flair for the dramatic, yet she's always held her family in the upmost regard."

"I'm well aware. I think I'll check on Teddy, it's a bit too quiet.."

"He'll keep. As I was saying. After we got past the underlying tension it really was delightful. We laughed, we cried, we shared and then she told me about Draco."

"I don't want to talk about him." Andromeda toyed with her tea cup, continuing as if Hermione had never spoken.

"Narcissa blames herself, of course. He hasn't been sleeping or eating for that matter. It seems he's found himself quite enamored.." Hermione gasped, clinging to her tea cup with both hands, "with his wife."

"I'm sure Mrs. Malfoy is mistaken. They are Malfoys after all. They do what is expected of them, whether it happens to be right or wrong, all in the name of family. I'm sure such notions do not extend to Muggle born witches."

"I'm going to forget for a moment you've insulted my sister. In spite of what my sister would call your questionable blood lines, she petitioned Dumbledore. Dumbledore trusted Narcissa Malfoy enough to accept Draco Malfoy to be your husband. I'm not asking you to befriend the woman, Merlin knows I have a difficult time of it and she's my sister. I'm asking you not to dismiss Draco due to his mother's overbearing tendencies and his father's prejudices." Andromeda sipped her tea and in a most unladylike fashion grabbed a handful of crisps from the open bag.

"NeeNee!" Teddy bellowed from one of Harry's guest rooms, giving Hermione the opportunity to bolt from the table.

"Are you alright? Why are you crying sweetheart?" Teddy's hair was a brilliant shade of green as he barreled into Hermione's outstretched arms.

"I look and look and no Mal. NeeNee.." Teddy sighed dramatically, his chubby cheeks splattered with tears, "want Mal too, NeeNee."

"It's a bloody conspiracy, I swear." Hermione carried the squirming toddler directly to the kitchen where Andromeda sipped her tea nonchalantly.

"You planned this didn't you?"

"Whatever are you going on about dear?" Hermione's dark eyes narrowed with a sneaking suspicion yet she couldn't detect anything amiss.

"Want Mal. NOW!" Teddy screeched, causing Hermione to sit him on the ground immediately.

"Behave yourself, young man." Andromeda scolded him quickly, yet the words lacked the necessary bite.

"For you Teddy, I'll owl him."

"Wonderful. Now that we've gotten that settled, Hermione you really should dress."

"I don't even know if he's coming!"

"Of course he's coming. Narcissa and Draco should arrive any moment. It's high time my sister and I spent some quality time together and there is a lovely park not far from here which Teddy would simply adore. Go on then. Make yourself presentable." If Hermione hadn't heard the pop of Apparition just outside Harry's back garden, her mouth would have dropped open in shock. As it was, she yelped and scurried toward the guest room she'd been utilising.

"I do good, Nana." Teddy grinned widely, his green hair flickering into a pink which reminded Andromeda of her daughter.

"Yes, Teddy, you were perfect." She hugged her grandson to her breast tightly, even as he objected until there was a timid knock on the back door.


	10. V - VI

**AN: Warning. Mature Content**

**if mature content is offensive then feel free to skip this particular chapter. **

* * *

Chapter 10 - V - VI

* * *

I fucked up. I really fucked up. I almost ruined everything; I couldn't believe I'd been so bloody careless. Quite honestly, I wasn't expecting him to be so wary of my charms nor able to defend himself so quickly. I'd have to be more careful in the future. At least he never saw my face. Sure, he saw _a_ face, but it wasn't my face. That was my saving grace.

I couldn't believe I had to stand there at that farce of a wedding and fucking smile. SMILE! As if I should be grateful I was included with their friends? I would love to give Hermione Granger away…to the Whomping Willow, but nope instead it was to Draco Malfoy. Ugh. When it comes down to it, I couldn't give a shite about Draco Malfoy. Yes, yes his father was a Death Eater and he was a horrid little bastard in school, but he didn't have anything to do with my vendetta. Not really. I mean, I suppose if Hermione Granger fell in love with him and Harry Potter befriended him, I could add him to the scenario, but he wasn't and never would be my main objective.

* * *

It was so easy slipping Imp into Pansy's drink. She'd never suspect me. No one would ever suspect me. I suppose I was getting a bit cocky about it all, but I'd already killed four people. I think once you hit a certain point, you're quite proud of your accomplishments. It was so bloody easy to flit around them as myself during the day and even easier when I was wearing Susannah.

I love being Susannah. She's feisty. She's sexy. She can get any man she wants and it's child's play. Plus, the rack on her doesn't hurt a bit either. I wondered if it was strange to be turned on by myself, but then I thought, she's not really me is she?

I knew I'd have to go back to Nox and that was pretty risky considering what had happened last time. I still can't believe that bloody Oliver Wood slipped me a mickey. Fucking tosser. Good riddance if you ask me.

Susannah had a meeting. It had taken much longer than I thought it would, but it was only a matter of time before Ludovic Bagman was begging me to meet him for drinks. Good ol' Ludo. I mean, he's still a bit of a smarmy bastard, a bit too eager, a bit greasy, but he was a means to an end. If I had any say in it, there was no way I was going to fuck disgusting Ludo Bagman, but I wasn't against putting on a bit of a show to get him exactly where I wanted him.

Ginny Weasley was going to play a starring role. She didn't know it of course. Susannah managed to bump into her in the Leaky Cauldron loo. That girl is one hot piece of arse. She doesn't know it of course. She hides behind her sexual prowess but there's a sadness in her eyes. I hate that I can see it. Probably because I mask my own inner turmoil.

It was a quick conversation of course, I mean, how long can you converse with a stranger in the loo? Ginny was super friendly and admired my dress. I looked absolutely smashing really. It was another short, sparkly little number which displayed all of _my_ assets. She invited me for drinks and how could I resist that offer? It would be the perfect guise to lure in Ludo.

My knickers were wet with excitement. There was just something about holding all the power and knowing it. I truly did love to shower as Susannah. The hot water cascading down this incredibly hot body was a...well a perverted sort of foreplay but hey, a girl's gotta get her kicks where she can.

I had to return to Nox after that horrific Oliver Wood scandal. It didn't take long to suss out the waitress who had spiked my drink and I found myself making her a little deal. It didn't hurt that I was overly friendly either. She seemed to get off on it. It wasn't difficult to secure a table for three at eleven with her in my pocket. Galleons really do make the world go 'round.

I browsed through my collection of Susannah dresses trying to pick the perfect one. I definitely couldn't sport any house colours; that would be a red flag. I needed something subtle yet irresistible. Black, I decided. Black blends into crowds yet it's the cut of the dress that makes it sexy. I didn't want to go short and slinky, but I needed an edge. I found myself practically purring as I yanked a black bustier out of my wardrobe. The edges were pink ribbon and I knew it would go perfectly with this strange little skirt I'd purchased in Muggle London. It was black, of course but it was the stripes which made it intriguing. There were wide satiny stripes and in between the stripes, it was perfectly sheer. With a little magical adjustment, it showed off the bottom of my bum and if I moved just right, it would keep the attention directly on the apex of my thighs. It hit just below my knees and the dual slits over each leg simply added to the illusion. Within a few moments I was dressed, piling Susannah's blonde hair on top of my head in an organised chaos sort of coif. The hot pink peep toe heels completely the ensemble and I was ready to kill.

"I'm really surprised you wanted to catch a drink here. Nox isn't known for its high end clientele." Ginny Weasley gushed, clutching my arm.

I found myself smiling at her as we walked the short distance to the club. I liked to push my limits and tonight wasn't any different. I knew Ludo hadn't arrived yet, so what was stopping me from a bit of fun really? As the bouncer looked us up and down with a lustful glint in his blue eyes, my hand found its way on the small of Ginny's back. Her long red hair shone in the moonlight, swaying as we were walking through the door. I looked over my shoulder and the bouncer couldn't take his eyes off us, so I dipped my hand lower and gave her bum a soft squeeze.

I thought his eyes were going to bulge out of his head. Ginny flushed furiously, but didn't reprimand me, so I left my hand there. The slow movements of my thumb on her backside caused a delightful blush to speckle her cleavage.

I spotted our waitress the moment we arrive and we locked eyes. She nodded and inclined her head toward a hidden booth near the rear of the club. I had to hand it to her, this was fucking perfect. Ginny slid into the booth with a shy smile and I found myself crawling on my knees toward her.

"Pink bubbly for my gorgeous companion and I'll take a _clean_ white wine." The waitress bobbed her head and scurried away. Didn't take her long to return which suited me just fine.

I leaned into Ginny as her eyes darted around the club, alight with excitement. Her dress moulded to her perfectly. It was a brilliant shade of red, which didn't clash with her hair, surprisingly. I wondered if she had magicked it to match. It hugged her slight curves, ending just above her knees. I knew it wouldn't take much to snap the spaghetti straps at her shoulders.

Ginny hadn't taken a sip of her drink yet, instead holding it tightly between her hands. The music was blaring so loudly, I would have to speak directly into her ear, which suited me just fine. I placed one hand around her shoulders, and dropped the other to her bare knee. Ginny jumped but giggled just the same.

"I think, I'd like to fuck you." I spoke into her ear, flicking my tongue against the outer shell.  
Ginny tried to move away from me a bit, but I held her in place, smiling as I stroked her knee.

"I didn't know you...you...liked...women. I'm not...I'm not that way." Ginny took a large swallow of her drink, her eyes darting to gauge my expression. I slid my hand up to her thigh, underneath her dress and smiled.

"I just want to play." Ginny finished the rest of her drink, signaling the waitress for another and finally shook her head.

"I-I think I should go. I-I think you've the wrong impression." I stroked the inside of her thigh, inching higher and noticed she didn't stop me.

I supposed her drink was kicking in. My fingers toyed with her hair, stroking the back of her neck slowly. I kissed her neck and she gasped.

"You don't want to leave. You want to stay right here. You want me to touch you. You want to touch me. Say it." I bit Ginny's earlobe, watching her eyes grow a bit hazy. Oh yes, she was completely under my influence now.

Ginny spread her knees and even hiked up her dress, her pupils dilated and her cheeks flushed. She wasn't wearing a bra which was completely obvious in her state of arousal. She licked her lips and I nipped her neck, leaving the hint of a love bite.

"I-I don't. I'm not. Merlin." I ignored the remnants of her protests and worked my way into her knickers. Ginny might be protesting but her body disagreed. I teased her and it was amusing how responsive she truly was. I stroked her a bit, waiting for Ludo to arrive. He was late. Ginny bucked into my hand, moaning.

"Susannah! So lovely to see..." Ludovic Bagman had finally arrived and he couldn't believe his eyes.  
He was a portly man, constantly making bad decisions, yet I could see in his eyes he believed his luck was about to change. Ginny's eyes were closed and her breasts were practically spilling out of her dress.

"Ludo, darling. Why don't you sit beside my friend here? I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you played as well." I winked and thrust my fingers inside her.

Ludo pulled on his Muggle vest, which was at least two sizes too small and slid into the darkened booth beside Ginny. I snapped my fingers and the lights around us went out. No one would be able to see us, but with a little magic and a friendly waitress, we were able to see each other. I wrenched down one of Ginny's straps and it broke just the way I knew it would. It didn't take but a moment for her breasts to be freed and Ludo to groan with lust.

"Go ahead, Ludo. Touch her. If you're good, I'll let you fuck her." I winked at him, tamping down the revulsion I actually felt for him and tweaked one of Ginny's nipples. She orgasmed against my fingers and slumped against Ludo. Ludo for his part hesitated yet continuously licked his lips.

"I-I think I'd rather watch, for a bit at least." Ludo grunted, like he was a bloody pig and I rolled my eyes.  
I didn't mind showing off in this body. I mean, it's just a loaner anyway. I gave Ginny a slap across the face which broke her out of her stupor. I could tell she wanted to be embarrassed but as I maneuvered myself onto the table, I saw it turn to lust. I placed each of my pink heeled feet on either side of Ginny. With a practiced ease, I slid my skirt up, keeping my eyes trained on hers.

Ginny reached out and flipped up the bottom of my skirt and bloody winked at me.

"No knickers. That's so fucking hot." She ran her hands along the insides of my thighs and finally fucking touched me.

Without the added benefit of Imp, it wasn't nearly as hot as it sounds. She tried though, which is something I suppose. It didn't take long for Ludo to give the table a shove and force Ginny to stand. He bent her over, forcing her face between my legs and quite honestly I rolled my eyes. I must admit, she was much better with her tongue than with her fingers. As Ludo shoved himself into Ginny and thrusted like the fat pig he was, it built up the friction which was almost enjoyable. It only took Ludo a few moments to spill himself and slump over Ginny.

"THIS IS A RAID!" The words were shouted over the blaring music and I had only one thought.

"Well, fuck." I gave Ginny a shove and hoped she would pass out soon. The sooner she passed out the sooner she would forget ever being here. Ludo started to freak out and almost severed his cock in his zipper. I grabbed Ludo's arm and Disapparated before the Aurors could get anywhere near us.

* * *

"Why?" Ludo cried. "Why? Just tell me why?" He had been a right bastard the moment we arrived at my little cabin. He berated me for leaving Ginny behind, can you imagine? He wanted a little more action. I shudder to think what he would have been like if he'd actually ingested any Imp.

"Shut up you fat bastard." This rune carving was a pain in my arse. I mean, it was brilliant what with all the necessary layering but it was so time consuming.

"Please, Susannah, don't do this."

"You're already dead. You couldn't leave well enough alone could you? Couldn't let them win on their merit. No, you had to interfere like the bastard you are. I'll make sure to place your body somewhere they'll discover it. Wouldn't want you decaying for too long." I snickered, trying to decide on the personal rune.

"I won't tell. You don't have to kill me." Ludo sniffled. I scoffed in disgust. It was always the same with the begging. I mean honestly? When they're naked and strapped to a table when is it going to sink in that they're already dead? They just don't know it yet.

"Any last requests?" I laughed. I don't remember why, but it seemed quite amusing at the time.

"I'll never place another bet. I swear it."

"That's not a request. Where would you like your body to be found?" I walked slowly around the table tapping his extremities with the end of the wand. He yelped each time, as if it were the end.

"Godric's Hollow. Was always fond of.."

"Avada Kedavra. Ugh. Enough of that sentimental shite. I've got a job to do Mr. Bagman, thanks for contributing your efforts."

Quite honestly Ludo had bored me. I would have chosen Dumbledore, Alastair Moody or even Barty Crouch Jr, but they were already dead. Lucky them. Ludovic Bagman wasn't really an integral part of my story, but he was a necessary means to an end.

John always said my problem was that I never looked at the big picture. I zeroed in on one important point and lost focus. He was wrong this time. I had a big picture. My perfect story ended with Harry Potter looking up at me and begging for mercy. I just had to work my way there. I wanted him to know someone was coming. I wanted him to know _I_ was coming.

* * *

Merlin he's so bloody boring. He works. He eats. He sleeps. He doesn't have a girlfriend. He doesn't date. I kept trying to remind myself why I chose this particular man and then I remembered. Oh yes, because he's accessible. His brother was guarded heavily and was currently keeping Harry Potter company. This brother would have to do. He was part of it, a very small part but if he hadn't...no, I couldn't think about that now. I had to find a way in.

He wasn't going to be impressed with my womanly wiles. I suppose there was an off-chance but I wasn't going to bet on it. I found myself observing him from quiet corners in obscure pubs but I was bored to tears.

I mean, do you know how bloody hard it is to get out of the country undetected? Of course you don't. The international portkeys are heavily regulated and it's not like you just Apparate to Romania. It's entirely too far, you'd splinch yourself and that would just ruin everything.

You can imagine my surprise when none other than Ron Weasley and Harry Potter walked into Beggar's End. The name alone should give you a clue on the horrific conditions. Such a shady little pub. I was excited of course but oh the anxiety almost did me in. I didn't want them seeing Susannah!

Then I remembered Quidditch Training Camp. Harry had been going on and on about it for weeks. I almost wasn't able to take my holiday. Boys and Quidditch, they never seem to grow up. Of course, if I had been paying attention instead of perfecting my plans, I would have remembered the training camp was taking place in Romania. Something about learning to maneuver in less than ideal conditions.  
I slipped out the back door and hurried to my little hole in the wall. It was the sort of place where questions weren't asked as long as you had the galleons. I might not be able to lure Ron Weasley back to my cabin, but I could definitely put a rift in the Golden Trio.

Sure, Hermione Granger married Draco Malfoy, but there was something about it that seemed a bit off. It was obvious Ron was still obsessed with her, which is ridiculous really. He turned into a bit of a drunk. It would have been amusing but I saw one of his drunken rants and it was unpleasant to say the least. Everyone with a pair of eyes and ears knew that Ron was jealous of Harry and even Hermione. Ron wasn't the hero, he wasn't the brains and how he managed to aid those two in saving the wizarding world was anyone's guess.

That's when I knew. I didn't have to be Susannah to lure Ron Weasley into my lair. I only needed to be myself. He'd be wary at first, of course, he'd have to be daft not to suspect something, but let's face it. Ron is a bit daft.

When I walked back to the pub, Charlie, Harry and Ron were conversing over a few pints. Ron was glowering at them, sipping what looked like a gillywater of all things. I found myself seated on the barstool closest to the loo and ordered myself a gillywater as well. I was dying for a glass of wine, but it was necessary to keep up appearances and eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Harry, did you see that blonde earlier? Gods."

"Ron."

"What? She was gorgeous! You're the one who keeps telling me I need give up on Hermione. Though why she married the ferret is beyond me. She can't possibly love him. Can you imagine him bringing her home to his Death Eater father? Cor."

"That blonde's been around a few days." Charlie sipped his pint glancing around the dark pub.

"Oh yea? Have you shagged her then?" Ron eagerly leaned forward and I rolled my eyes. It was obvious he was trying to replace his drinking habit with someone less savory.

"She's not my type." Harry snorted.

"Not your type?! Merlin Charlie, what _is_ your type then?" Charlie's little crooked smile was a bit endearing. I hated admitting that.

"Leather." Charlie practically purred. Well, well, well, Charlie Weasley has a fetish. I could so work with that.

"Ugh. I'm going to the loo." Ron pushed away from the table and being the bumbling oaf he is, he almost knocked me off my barstool.

"Oh no," I whispered, feigning fright. "Please, don't tell Harry." Ron's face was comical. I grasped his forearm as he helped me up, risking a glance over my shoulder but Harry and Charlie were whispering over their pints.

"W-what are you doing here?" I grabbed Ron's hand and hurried toward the loo.

"I took holiday to visit my friend but she decided Quidditch was much more interesting. She met a bloke tonight and left me here. She knows I don't drink anymore. If Harry sees me, he's going to be furious. I told him my mum was ill." I spoke softly, looking up at him through my dark bangs and fluttering my eyelashes.

Ron stared down at me and I knew I made the right choice in my attire. It was just a simple pair of leggings and my body wasn't that impressive but it seemed to be doing the trick for Ron. I had decided to go Muggle. It was easier to blend in that way. The black tank pushed my breasts together making them look more impressive than they are and the simple blue plaid button up drew the attention directly to my cleavage.

I fingered the crests of my breasts under the guise of nervousness and watched his eyes darken.

"I can get you out of here. If-if you want." Ron pulled the dark hair near my ear and I tilted my head into his hand. He was so fucking predictable. Show the slightest bit of interest and he would try to get into a girl's knickers.

"I-I don't..I don't know the way back to my room." I smiled a bit, giggling even as his stupid mouth gaped open.

"I've got a room up the street aways. You can uh wait there and owl your friend."

"Oh, I don't want to put you out. Harry might be angry with you for leaving him here alone." I lowered my chin contritely and even sniffed a bit.

As I knew he would he awkwardly put his arm around me and I crashed into his chest. It was just as soft as I thought it would be. Apparently Ron Weasley had never heard of exercise.

"Harry'll be fine. He's with Charlie. They'll be completely pissed before long, won't even notice I'm gone. Come on then."

Ron led me to the door of the pub, not even giving his brother or Harry a wave and lead me down the dark street. At least his inn was nicer than mine. The moment we were inside I perched on the edge of his double bed. Merlin he's so bloody awkward. I unbuttoned my plaid shirt a bit further and tossed my dark hair over my shoulder.

"I'd er offer you a drink but all I have is pumpkin juice." It was sort of funny to see Ron attempt to hide his erection, but I let him.

"I'd love a pumpkin juice actually. I'm not much for drinking either." When he handed me the bottle he had opened, I stroked his hand with my own and blushed. I don't even know how I managed to pull that off.

He smiled and sat down next to me, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. Perfect. I slipped out of my button up and sighed tiredly. I put my head on his shoulder and sipped my juice. I was counting the seconds until he put his arm around me. Seventeen seconds later he was stroking my back. I let him think I didn't know he was inching up the hem of my tank, easing his thumb underneath. In order to move things on a bit, I placed my hand on his thigh. Not up too high of course, yet it was contact just the same. Before I knew it, his entire hand was up the back of my shirt and I moaned.

It wasn't doing a thing for me but we all have to play our part. Ron stopped when he hit the band of my brassiere. I wished I had taken some Imp; it would have made things easier. I inched my hand up his thigh and risked a look at his freckled face.

"I-I'm sorry." Ron was blushing furiously while his hand slid down to the small of my back. I braced myself on the tips of my toes, without standing so his hand would fall directly to my arse and kissed his cheek.

"Don't be sorry." The tremor to my voice gave me just the edge I needed.

As much as I hated to admit it, I was nervous. I hadn't shagged anyone since John had died. Well, I hadn't shagged anyone as myself. Whatever antics I enjoyed as Susannah were beside the point.  
When I sat back on the bed, Ron's fingers unclasped the back of my bra and my breath quickened. Ugh, could he move any slower? It was irritating to say the least. Impatiently I reached across him and grabbed his free hand. I hadn't the slightest what he'd done with his pumpkin juice but it didn't matter. I put his hand on my inner thigh and laid back on his bed.

"Take it off." I was surprised to hear a demanding quality to his voice but I did as he asked.

I whisked my tank over my head, taking my bra with it and allowed him to stare. He was practically drooling for Merlin's sake. I blinked and my wrists were pinned over my head in one of his meaty hands. He didn't bother to remove my leggings, instead just ripping an access hole into them.

"You're a whore aren't you?" Ron sneered, twisting my nipple cruelly. He struggled one handed with his trousers, yanking them down his thick freckled thighs.

This wasn't how it was supposed to go at all. I suppose these sorts of things happen when you don't scope out your prey perfectly. Ron Weasley was a rough wanker. He shoved a finger through the hole of my leggings and shoved aside my knickers.

"No. No."

"Yea, you are. Coming here with me. Touching me. Saying no but you don't mean it. I know all about girls like you." Fuck. Ron Weasley is certifiable! He shoved a finger in me, adding another and squeezed my wrists so hard I was sure to have bruises.

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard." I breathed, trying to distract him. There was no way I was going to be able to lure him away now, but I could work with this.

He was so busy trying to ready me; he didn't hear the thundering footsteps outside the door. Well, I wasn't going to be able to murder Ron Weasley, but I could make Harry Potter detest his very existence. I rocked into Ron's hand roughly. It hurt, but I needed it to hurt. It wouldn't work if my eyes were dry.

"See. I knew you liked it." I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears to escape. "Dirty bitch." Ron removed his fingers and I thought for a moment he heard the conversation outside the door, but he hadn't. He slammed into me so hard I literally saw stars. I didn't have to wish tears to appear, they were streaming of their own accord.

"No. NO! STOP!" I screamed as I'd never screamed, but the fucking door didn't open right away.

"Oh yeah, keep doing that, you sexy minx. Who knew you had it in you?" Ron growled, grinding himself into me. A second later with another grunt and groan, he was finished. Fairly dissatisfying, though not surprising.

As Ron collapsed on me, with tears still leaking from my eyes, the bloody door finally smashed open revealing one very shocked Harry Potter.

"Ugh, Harry! You couldn't wait? The door was obviously charmed!" Ron grumbled and climbed off me. The wanker hadn't even removed his clothes.

"I er, I heard screaming and well...sorry?" Harry's eyes were averted from my unclad chest yet as Ron snorted he looked at me. The varying emotions on his face almost made me burst into laughter. Shock. Outrage. Fury. Confusion. He was so obvious. He finally settled on distaste.

"Harry, don't give her a hard time alright?" Ron shoved my shirts into my arms when I sat up and bloody winked at me. "You should go."

I didn't say a word to either of them. I threw on my shirts, mended my leggings and was out the door faster than you can say Quidditch. I Apparated back to my room and broke into peals of laughter. Merlin, if they remained friends after that? Fuck it, more power to them.

I had bigger plans than stupid Ron Weasley. Tomorrow was the last day of Quidditch Training Camp. I didn't have time to waste. I needed Susannah. She was going to have to seduce Charlie Weasley. I couldn't bring him back to my cabin, but I was sure there were plenty of secluded places in Romania to do what was necessary.

Charlie was into leather. I could work with that. The adrenaline coursing through me made me shake in excitement. Regardless of the fact I had just fucked his brother, I had to make my final move tonight. If he didn't bite, then I was going to Confund his arse.

I Disillusioned Susannah and followed Charlie Weasley out of the pub. I couldn't believe my luck he was still there! I thought he had surely left when Harry had. This night just kept getting better and better. Imagine my surprise when walked along a snow covered dirt path into the forest.

He kept glancing behind him and I had to keep hiding behind trees but eventually he stopped before a monstrous boulder. I was so close I could have reached out and touched him, but I didn't. I was curious. I wanted to see what the fuck Charlie Weasley was up too. He waved his wand in a seemingly chaotic fashion and the boulder morphed into a medieval sort of door. It swung open and we were inside.

What the fuck is wrong with these Weasleys? I mean seriously. Charlie Weasley is into kink? Whoever would have thought. No wonder he'd never had a steady girlfriend. Everyone had assumed he preferred blokes and here he was, allowing some willowy blonde to shove him into a chair and slap him.  
I followed around a short brunette. She was completely oblivious but I noticed her outfits changed numerous times throughout the night. She slipped behind a curtain and I almost gasped. The walls were covered with leather and latex outfits. It seemed there was some sort of pain inducing instruments as well. Another girl walked in and pulled one off the wall.

"It's my favourite flogger." She winked, her high pony tail swinging. Alright then, floggers. I waited for the little brunette to leave before making a selection. There was a particularly sexy leather and latex catsuit which called to me. I knew Susannah could really pull it off. I nicked the silver stiletto boots as well. You can never be too careful when playing a part. I dressed quietly using a simple Evanesco to deal with my clothing. Frankly, at this point who cares if I lost an outfit. Big picture people!

Charlie didn't seem to do much. He sat sipping a pint and watching more than anything. I think he's timid. How bloody adorable. This was taking entirely too much time. I should be back in Scotland, preparing to go to work. I had Ludo under a special charm so he wouldn't fuck up my cabin with his decay. It tickled my fancy that it was the Ministry who taught me the charm in the first place. Of course if they knew what I was using it for, I'm sure they would have rethought the idea entirely.

I removed the Disillusionment Charm and stood quietly behind him. I had hastily thrown my hair up into a high ponytail and when I bent over to adjust a strap on my boots it brushed Charlie's shoulder. He was startled of course and leapt from his chair. I found myself arching an eyebrow in his direction, lightly tapping the side of my thigh with a riding crop.

Charlie Weasley winked at me. I could have fallen through the floor in shock. These Weasleys are fucking barmy I tell you. Between Susannah's height and these wicked boots, I towered over him.

"You're that girl from the pub." I had to admit, I loved his voice. It was sultry, smooth with just a hint of sexy.

"Escort me out." I didn't ask. I didn't demand. It was just this sort of hanging statement. He didn't seem to be into hardcore kink, as he never went into any of the backrooms with the brazen girls wandering about.

The way he looked at me, or rather Susannah made my knickers wet. I didn't wait for him to reply, though his desire was blatant in his eyes and I started for the door. I felt his hands on my hips. I had to duck in order to get through it and I could swear the little weirdo licked my bare back.

"I like to be told what to do." I took a deep breath of the frigid air and turned to face him.

"Good. I take orders all day. At night, I like to give them. Take me to your place." It was a risk, I knew that, but I couldn't bring him back to mine. It wasn't set for the kind of play Charlie wanted and he would know.

Charlie walked a few steps behind me, but led me to a cottage nestled on the edge of the wood. I could hear angry puffs and the rumble of fire nearby. I knew Charlie worked with dragons, but I never expected them to be so close. I stepped into his cottage and it was pleasantly cosy. I was expecting some sort of dungeon filled with whips and chains, but what did I know about it really.

I loved the way my heels clipped across the rustic wooden floor. The room was sparse and from the scuff marks, it seemed this was exactly where he played. Charlie stood near the hearth contritely but the smolder in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Show me what you like." His eyes flickered, though whether he was unsure or even confused, I couldn't be sure.

I stalked toward him, flexing the riding crop in my hand and he stepped forward. I walked around him, tapping him lightly with the crop on his chest, his shoulder and pulled the leather tie from his hair. His hair was softer than I expected. Ron's hair had been course and unkempt, but Charlie's was soft and deliciously shiny.

"What would you like?" Charlie frowned as if he'd never been asked the question before. "Be decisive. What do you want to do with me?"

"I've never been asked that before." His breathing was a little erratic which worried me until his calloused hands touched my face.

It made my breath catch. His fingertips outlined my face, ending on my chin and for a moment, I was reminded of John. He used to do the same thing. There was an ache in my chest and I wanted to cry. I didn't want to kill anyone who reminded me of John. I knew I had a job to do, but Charlie Weasley, curse his soul, had changed the game. At least for tonight.

He grabbed me by the ponytail and dragged my face to his, kissing me hard. I could taste a bit of blood, but it didn't bother me, not really. Then he stopped, almost as if he were ashamed of himself. He blushed furiously, which was so bloody endearing I wanted to kill him just make this roller coaster of emotions fucking stop. He unzipped by leather ensemble so quickly I hadn't realised he'd even done it until I felt his rough hands on my bare skin.

I let him lead me to his bed. I let him crawl on top of me. I let him touch me in ways I hadn't been touched in years. I didn't have to fake my moans when he touched me. I hated him. I hated my orgasms. I hated myself.

I still want to cry. I should have killed him. I should not have stood there callously carving runes into the flawless skin on his back. He made me feel something and I loved it as much as I hated it.

Why did he have to be so kind? Why did he have to kiss so sweetly? Why did he have to remind me of John? Why did I have to stun him?

Well, I might not be able to answer the other questions, but that last one? I had to. I didn't want to. I didn't kill him. I should have. But like I said...I fucked up.


	11. Blown Away

**AN: hi. k so...as you read this...just remember how much i love you &amp; don't hate me. k? k. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 11 - Blown Away

* * *

"What were you thinking?!"

"Well, obviously I wasn't but, she was into it right? She liked it. She came onto me. She came back here with me and.."

"Ron! I really don't want a play by play. It looked...well, it looked rather disturbing actually. As if you were...you know." Harry couldn't even say the word.

He'd stormed out of Ron's room and hadn't spoken a word to him during the last day of Quidditch Training Camp. He was angry with his best mate, but he wasn't going to ruin his last day of holiday. It wasn't until they arrived at the Burrow that Harry finally exploded.

"Harry! I might be a little out of sorts, but I'd never...I can't believe you'd think I would..." Harry squirmed uncomfortably. He hadn't had the best opinion of Ron since his rather obnoxious breakup with Hermione.

"Ron, you have to admit.."

"No Harry! I drank too much. I said horrible things. I know that right? I've never touched a woman. At least, unless she wanted me too. I can't believe that my best mate would think for one bloody moment that I.." Ron slumped against a tree, his face in his hands.

"I don't know what to think anymore." Harry flopped down on the ground after casting a warming charm. "I can't believe you shagged _her_."

"Don't tell my Healer. She thinks I'm replacing one addiction with another and right now, I don't think she's wrong. I need to check in. I promised." Ron sighed heavily, silently berating himself.

"Alright well, stop by after. I need to check on Hermione. I left her in my flat, knowing Andromeda, Teddy and the Malfoys were coming over. I'm surprised I didn't receive a Howler."

"Why would she be angry with you for that? Seems silly. They're her family too now. Wait. Why was she at your place?" Ron haphazardly buttoned his coat, glaring down at Harry.

"Oh right, yea well, Hermione and Narcissa had a bit of a tiff and well, she left."

"Mione left her husband?"

"Well, sort of I suppose, I don't expect it to be permanent or anything." Harry shrugged, slowly getting to his feet. He could see Molly peering out the window at them and didn't want to get sucked into another long family dinner. He wanted to go home and see his wife.

"D'ya think I still have a chance, Harry? With..Mione I mean.." The hopefulness oozing from Ron was bittersweet. On the one hand Harry was glad his friend had a glimmer of life in him again, on the other hand, he was going to have to snuff it out.

"No, Ron. I don't. Even if Malfoy wasn't in the picture. He loves her you know."

"Yeah..I thought it might be like that."

* * *

_*Three Days Prior*_

* * *

"Lucius. I'm going to visit my sister." Lucius Malfoy scowled, ignoring his wife to turn another page in the worn book he was perusing. "Do not ignore me."

"What would you like me to say? Have a delightful lunch with your blood traitor sister and my Mudblood daughter-in-law?" He hadn't expected his wife to slap him. He hadn't expected the slow burn from the force behind it.

"I warned you Lucius. Do not speak of my sister that way. As much as it rattles the family tree, Hermione Granger is a Malfoy now. She needs to learn to control her temper, but she's an asset. Our son loves her. She's carrying our grandchild. You will not use that vile word again or you'll find your belongings in the carriage house. Mark my words, Lucius, the carriage house will be on fire as well." Narcissa seethed, cradling her throbbing wrist with her uninjured hand.

"The little Mud..Draco's wife is with child?" He didn't relish the idea of a half-blood grandchild, but it was better than none at all.

"She's unaware currently but we expect they'll be discovering it soon. Personally, I'm hoping sooner rather than later." Lucius cautiously drew his wand and healed his wife's wrist. He had numerous questions, but knew better than to address them now. They could wait.

"I suppose Draco is accompanying you to attempt to win back his wife's affections?"

"He's in such a state, Lucius. I don't know what we'll do with him if she refuses." Narcissa sat beside her husband in their private study, her blue eyes shining with unspent tears.

"I remember how I berated him for his inability to prove himself better than a...a Muggle-born witch. Draco ranted and raved about the poor girl for hours. I suppose he was besotted then, wasn't he?"  
Lucius Malfoy detested accepting the inevitable. While he didn't wish to relive any of his moments spent under the questionable tutelage of the Dark Lord, he'd never minded the pure-blood supremacy. He was well aware of their inability to sustain without introducing new blood, yet he'd never considered Muggle-borns as part of the scenario. If he took Hermione Granger's blood status out of the equation, Lucius didn't honestly have any lingering issues with the witch.

"I didn't notice it. I didn't consider it, until...until I saw Draco's face when she was writhing on the drawing room floor. I'd never seen him look like that. It was then I realised he cared for her and probably always had. I'm so glad we closed that wing of the Manor. I wouldn't want her to be afraid here. I wouldn't want her to disallow our grandchildren to visit the very house their father grew." The corner of Narcissa's lip quivered. Lucius patted her knee. He did detest a woman's tears.

"Cissa, you don't wish to be late, it's most unbecoming of a Malfoy." He flashed her a smile, which distracted her enough for the threat of tears to abate.

"I'm extending a dinner invitation." Narcissa stroked her husband's cheek and stepped into the Floo.

* * *

Hermione knew they had arrived by Teddy's frantic screeching and the thump of toddler feet across Harry's kitchen floor. She hadn't seen Draco, nor responded to any of his owls in the past week and she was nervous. She threw on a pair of heavy, dark blue Muggle jeans and a cream turtleneck.

Hermione had lodged a few complaints with Harry over the draftiness of his house and the incessant chill in the air, but Harry wouldn't hear of it. He kept telling Hermione it was all in her head and if she was unhappy with her accommodations she could feel free to go home.

Hermione tiptoed out of the guest room until she was standing at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath. Slowly she descended, holding the banister as if it were a lifeline.

"Of course I had him take Teddy to the garden. We couldn't very well discuss them with him present." Hermione stopped, pressing herself against the wall.

"You really should apologise to her, Cissy. You can't ask Hermione Granger about her job and then be offended when she answers you honestly. It's not as though Lucius didn't have such artifacts in the first place. He did. You bloody well know he did. Sure, you tell everyone you donated them to the Ministry but I know better Cissy. The Ministry confiscated them during a raid. Lucius has rubbed off on you." Hermione could hear the venom in Andromeda's voice and swallowed hard.

"Andy.."

"Don't 'Andy' me, Cissy. We're not children anymore and reverting to childhood nicknames won't get you anywhere."

"Andromeda. While Malfoy's do not apologise, they _do_ make amends. I'm quite aware I was hasty with the poor girl, considering...and I plan to speak with her, over dinner at the Manor."

"You can't expect her to.." Hermione's throat closed. She closed her eyes and took a few cleansing breaths.

"We sealed off that portion of the Manor. No one's set foot in it since the day Potter defeated Vo-Vold...the Dark Lunatic. Bellatrix was always a bit deranged quite honestly. I don't know what Father ever saw in her. You know how horrid it was for us during the war. Draco is no stranger to the Cruciatus Curse himself. I can't claim to understand how traumatising it was for her, but it's not as if Bellatrix carved 'Mudblood' into her arm." Hermione shuddered at the thought, her feet shifting on the stairs, causing them to creak.

There wasn't a need to hide any longer; therefore Hermione descended the stairs, steeling herself for an icy blue glare. Instead, she saw a trace of fear behind those blue eyes and almost smiled. For a scant moment, Hermione enjoyed seeing the unease in the historically composed matriarch. She stood at the bottom of the stairs with a bit of uncertainty, when the back door flew open.

"NeeNee! Lookit! Mal! See Nana! Is Mal and NeeNee!" Teddy was pulling on Draco's hand, bouncing on the balls of his feet as his hair rapidly changed colour until he finally settled on dark blonde curls and hazel eyes.

"Yes, Teddy, we see. Come along. Would you like to go to the park with Nana and Cissy?" Andromeda smiled warmly at her nephew.

"Yes! Ice cream too? Mal and NeeNee too?"

"Let's let Mal and NeeNee have a chat and perhaps they'll meet us later for ice cream." Narcissa practically cooed at the toddler, completely besotted with him.

While the awkwardness in the air was palpable, Narcissa and Andromeda were of a mind to ignore such unpleasantness. They each took one of Teddy's presumably sticky hands and left.

Hermione nibbled the corner of her lip, unsure where to begin or if she wanted to say anything at all. She wanted to fly up the stairs and hide in Harry's guest room but she seemed rooted.

She couldn't remember a time when she'd ever seen Draco dress so casually. She glanced at him through lowered lashes to see him wearing a pair of dark blue faded Muggle jeans and a black turtleneck. He had pushed the sleeves up a bit, exposing his arm and Hermione was pleased to see the salve she had created was still doing its job. When her eyes finally rose to his face she gasped in shock.  
He looked horrid. His cheeks were sunken, his face practically gaunt and his eyes, oh his eyes were filled with a pain she could understand. Draco had jammed his hands into his pockets, staring at the floor. His pale hair flopped into his eyes until he finally took a breath and looked at her.

"I missed you." Draco was wary. He didn't want her to rush off again, but at the same time, he wanted her to know what she meant to him.

"Y-you did?" Draco nodded slowly and took a step toward her.

"I changed the wards on the Floo." He took another step, breathing a sigh of relief that she hadn't retreated.

"You changed the family wards? Whatever will your mother say?" Hermione cringed realising her words had more bite than she had intended.

"You're my family."

"I'm not going to the Sudan to meet Bill." Hermione took a step forward, her heart beating furiously.

"You're not?" Draco took in the dark circles under her eyes and the way her clothes hung.

"When I'm through with the Rune-a-mator case, I'm giving my resignation. I've had my fill of dangerous situations." Hermione took another step forward and they were so close, they only needed to raise their hands to touch.

"Rune-a-mator?" Draco quirked his head questioningly.

"It's Harry's idea of a joke. Muggle movie. Terminator. Oh never you mind." Hermione snorted, realising how ridiculous it all sounded.

"I've been bloody useless all week. Potter told me to remove my head from my arse, which I still maintain is disturbing." Draco raise his hand, almost waiting for her to recoil, yet when she didn't, his thumb caressed her jaw, his fingers lightly resting on her neck.

"I'm to meet Bill tomorrow." Draco noticeably stiffened, "at the Ministry, in one of the Auror training halls. I'd like it if you...if you came with me."

Draco closed the slight distance between them, slipping his hand to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. Hermione placed her cheek against his heart and inhaled. He buried his face in her hair and the ache in his chest which had plagued him from the moment she'd left their home, ebbed.

Wordlessly, Hermione withdrew from their sloppy embrace and took his hand in hers. She led him up the creaking stairs to the guest room she considered hers and climbed into the double bed. Draco followed, instantly wrapping her in his arms.

"Come home, baby." Malfoy's didn't beg. It was ingrained in him from childhood. They also never admitted they were wrong, never said they were sorry and above all else respected their purity. Draco realised he didn't care about any of those things anymore, he simply wanted his wife.

"Can we...can we just sleep first? I'm so tired, Draco." Hermione's eyes had already drifted closed, her words a barely perceptible mumble.

Draco held her tight, shifting slightly to his side so their bodies were pressed together beneath a ridiculous quilt he could only assume was the work of Molly Weasley. He pulled her hair off her face, watching her mouth drop open. He had missed the way she'd snuggle against him while she was sleeping. He had missed the little pants which would always escape her lips, never louder than a sigh. He had missed the feel of her body beside him.

*_Gods, I love her_.* Draco thought to himself as he felt the urge to join her in slumber.

* * *

The next morning they were woken by a grumbling Astoria and a giggling Ginny.

"Why are they here? That's the real question." Astoria stabbed her porridge as if it had personally offended her.

"Who cares? They've got their clothes on. Actually, I can't believe Harry didn't tell you." Ginny nibbled a slice of cold bacon, bundled into a heavy dressing gown.

"I was out of the country. I was visiting my parents and my perfectly wretched sister. Did you know they wanted me to bring her back with me? They suggested I find her a respectable wizard to marry. Ugh. As if that were even possible."

"Yes, yes, Daphne's impossible. Anyway, Harry told George who told Mum who told me that Hermione and Malfoy got into a bit of a row because of Narcissa or with Narcissa. Not terribly sure on that point, but anyway. She left him and spent the week here."

"Hmpf." Astoria rolled her eyes and shoved a raspberry scone in her mouth. "Where were you last night?"

"It's funny actually. I know I was meant to be here. I remember packing a bag. I was going to meet a woman for a drink and I woke up at the Burrow. I haven't the foggiest what happened. I think I...I think I had sex."

"You think? What the fuck does that mean, you think? You don't know?"

"Stori, I just bloody told you! I don't remember anything!"

"Did you go to Nox? There was a raid. The bartenders have been lacing everyone's drinks with that horrid drug Imp."

"I was..." Ginny frowned, making her face scrunch. "There was a woman. She seemed nice enough and I got an owl..yes! I did go to Nox. I met her there. She touched my arse! It's a bit hazy, but I sort of remembering her coming on to me, but I can't remember what she said and after that it's blank."

"Owl Pansy. Have her meet you at St Mungos. I woke you, so maybe there are remnants of Imp still in your system. I'd go with you but I'm not bloody Apparating anywhere."

"Do you really think it was Imp?" Draco inquired as Ginny practically ran from the room.

"Go home."

"That's not very hospitable, Stori." He padded across the wood floor and poured himself a cup of coffee.

"I'm not feeling very hospitable, Draco. I'm as big as a bloody house and it's only February. I've got almost another month to go. Not only am I being pummeled from the inside, I've got Draco and Hermione sleeping in my guest room that Harry still hasn't managed to convert into a nursery. I have to use the loo every few minutes and I can't stop eating. In fact go wake up your wife. She makes delightful Muggle food." Astoria buttered a croissant while still chewing the remnants of her scone.

"I'm not your personal chef, Stori." Hermione rubbed her bleary eyes. She offered Draco a half-smile as she burrowed herself into his arms.

"You lot are disgustingly adorable. I hate you. Make me food."

"What this time? Muggle food? You need to eat better." Hermione sighed, her breath tickling Draco's neck. He shivered, kissing the top of her head.

"I can't cook. You want me to eat better, feed me better." Stori pouted, stroking her astronomical stomach.

Hermione rolled her eyes, yet she quickly tied back her hair, finished the rest of Draco's coffee and staring pouring through the pantry.

"Aren't you glad I convinced Harry you needed an icebox? Can you imagine the difficulty you'd have storing all this?" Hermione laughed which made Draco's heart feel lighter.

He still thought she was terribly thin, but there was a lightness about her now and he wanted it to stay that way. He amused himself by irritating Astoria as she peered into the various pots on the cooktop.

"What's this mess?" Astoria's nose crinkled.

"For someone who refuses to learn to cook, you are quite particular. I told you. I'm infusing flavours into the spinach." Hermione turned down the heat, watching the onions and garlic sizzle in the cast iron pan.

"I don't like spinach. I don't like green foods."

"Tough. I'm not having my godchild suffer before of his mother's stubbornness."

"Cooking is sort of like Potions isn't it?" Draco watched Hermione carefully stir a large pot filled with an orangey concoction.

"Exactly. Alright, this here is done. I'm setting it on the sideboard until it cools. I'll have Harry portion it for storage."

"What have I got then?" Hermione felt Draco's hand slip into hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. He understood how demanding Astoria Potter could be.

"There's a pan of lasagna with a bolognese sauce, if that's the only way I can get a vegetable into you, so be it. That crock there is soup. No, I'm not telling you what kind, simply eat it. I know you've quite an addiction to crisps so I made you a dip. Fresh rolls, macaroni and cheese, chicken chowder, and I sliced a ham for sandwiches. I'm late now. You owe me." Hermione summoned her belongings with a practiced flair. She turned to Draco while slipping on her trainers.

"I'm going to pop home to change. I'm sick of these clothes. Could you uhm, pop by the Ministry and inform Bill I'm a bit behind?" He didn't want her to go to the Ministry. He didn't want to accompany her there. He wanted to take her home, lock her in their bedroom and ravish her until the very thought of ever leaving him again was completely banished. Instead, Draco smirked.

"For a price." Her eyes narrowed, yet she could see a playfulness in Draco she hadn't experienced before. Casually he rounded the table with a twinkle in his eye. Hermione squealed when he reached for her, trying to evade him but it was futile. They both knew it in the end. He trapped her against the door without giving her a chance to catch her breath and kissed her hungrily.

Their mouths slanted, breaths quickened, hands roamed, teeth nibbled lips with small gasps of pleasure until Astoria threw an unbuttered roll at Draco's head.

"Oi. Get out."

* * *

"I still maintain you should have told Bill to bugger himself." Draco grumbled in annoyance sneering at various wizards who dared to meet his heated gaze.

"Malfoy, you're insatiable. If I recall correctly, I informed you I have an appointment with Bill. Apparently there are time constraints and blood magic involved. Why the bloody artifact would be marked with my blood is quite curious."

"I still don't like it." He allowed Hermione to yank him into the lift.

"You're not meant to like it. It's my job."

"You're not a Curse-Breaker, you're a bloody Specialist."

Draco casually pinned Hermione in the corner of the lift, toying with the ends of her curls. She opened her mouth to protest and found her mouth covered and a warm tongue probing her mouth. Her body responded, clouding her thought processes. She sighed upon the sensation of small open mouthed kisses trailing along her jaw and the hollow of her neck. Before she could regain her senses, her heavy Muggle jeans were unbuttoned and shoved down past her knees and his hands were under her jumper unclasping her bra.

"Mal-Malfoy, w-we're in the bloody lift." Hermione managed to gasp even as his lips surrounded a taut peak.

"We're alone. Missed you. Need you." She braced herself in the corner of the lift, grasping his shoulders in a vise like grip.

"Draco." He growled then, nipping her neck. His trousers hit the floor unceremoniously. Draco hitched her knee around his waist, the moment he plunged into her recesses. Hermione met him thrust for thrust, the lift filled with their operatic ensemble, ending in a medley of grunts, groans and moans of completion.

Draco smirked as he watched his wife hastily adjust her wrinkled blouse, grumbling at the loss of buttons.

"Love, you are a witch." He flicked his wand, repairing the alluring pale blue lace bra as well as her navy blouse.

"I can't believe we just did that."

"I don't know about you, but _I_ feel loads better. There'll be plenty more of that when you get your sexy arse home." He truly loved the moments she blushed. It gave her this angelic, innocent quality which endeared her to him that much more.

"Oi. You're late." The lift had opened, revealing a disgruntled Bill Weasley. Bill took in their mussed hair and rumpled clothing with a shake of his head.

They followed Bill down the darkened corridor to the lone door at the end. Hermione expected him to open it so she could get to work. Instead, he tied back his red hair and ran a hand down the scarred portion of his face.

"Listen. I've had the object transported from the Sudan. You know that much and I'm assuming you've informed Malfoy as well. It's fine. Don't work yourself up over nothing. I just want to warn you, warn the both of you really. There's something different with this object. It's only a bloody music box, but the family in question has revealed the wards kicked in after the patriarch's death and it contains the key to their vault."

"Why on earth..."

"Not the family vault, his personal vault, which contains his will and bequeathments to the family, hence why Gringott's is quite anxious to get inside. They're receiving a percentage of the wealth contained simply by housing this object. I don't know why there's a blood enchantment placed upon it and they don't have a bloody clue either."

"Whose is it?" Draco injected. There was something wrong with this entire scenario. It was quite ominous to be honest.

"It's anonymous."

"Which is Curse-Breaker for 'I know but I can't tell you'." Draco scoffed, pulling his wife to his side with a sneer.

"I understand. I wouldn't want to allow my wife to do this either. I'll be with her the entire time. I have a sneaking suspicion that regardless of the Ministry Training Hall's protections, we'll not be able to exit until the job is complete. If I knew whose object it was, I'd tell you."

"I'm sure it will be fine." Hermione's false bravery didn't fool either of them.

"There's an observation deck to the right. I'd rather you stayed there, Malfoy. We need someone there. I had asked Harry to do it, but he got called to Romania on an urgent matter. Stori's going to have his head. You'll be able to see everything and if you see we've hit a spot of trouble, then you can call the Aurors." Draco nodded. He still disliked it but it made him feel a bit better. If he couldn't be there with her, at least he could observe her, it was something.

"Alright you two. Behave. If I'm going to be trapped in there for an indeterminate period of time, I'm going to use the loo." Hermione flashed a smile over her shoulder and hurried away.

"Listen, Malfoy er Draco. I know you're worried. I've uh heard through the grapevine.."

"Your loud mouthed sister.."

"Yes, exactly." At least Bill had the decency not to deny it. "Regardless, I know you've had a bit of...issues. They don't tell you. It's hard to be newlyweds when there's familial opposition."

"You? You married that Beaubaxton beauty didn't you?" Draco had been mildly impressed to hear the girl had married Bill after his disfigurement. He respected that.

"Fleur Delacour, yeah. She was in the Triwizard with Harry and..my family was adamant they'd never accept her. My mum is still cool where my wife is concerned but it's improved. Don't let your family come between you. Remind yourself _she_ is your family now."

"My mother is...an intimidating witch and well, she's never reacted well to opposition. You'd think she would have expected it, considering the match was her idea...bollocks." Draco ran his fingers through his hair, nervously, expecting Bill to hex him once he deduced the truth. Instead, Bill laughed.

"It's better you learn this now instead of later. Harry is the worst gossip of the bunch. He has learned to never tell Ginny, I suppose that's something. It's not my business. I don't care to be quite honest. It's obvious you care for her and vice versa. You'll figure it out." Bill offered his hand and Draco found himself shaking it firmly. He decided for a Weasley, Bill wasn't a bad bloke.

"Look at you, Malfoy. Making friends."

"I'll give you two a moment. Head on in when you're ready Hermione." Bill clapped Draco on the back and entered the singular door.

"I want you to promise me something." Draco clasped her shoulders, holding her arms length, even as he wished to do the exact opposite.

"I'll try." Hermione squirmed under his scrutiny, her eyes continually falling to the floor yet unable to resist the pull, she stared into silvery pools of worry.

"I know we've had a rough week. I'll adjust the wards to prohibit spontaneous arrivals. I'll inform my mother she must owl prior to visiting. After this case, I'll take a desk job. I'll fucking train those swotty Junior Aurors. I'll accompany you to the bloody Burrow for Sunday brunch and I won't hex the Weasel, unless he starts it. Then all bets are off. However, I can't do any of those things if you're not safe in there. I don't want you to take any ridiculous risks and I know your Gryffindor courage is already balking and I don't care. I'm a selfish man, Granger. I want what I want and I usually get it. I suppose what I'm saying is.."

"You want me to be careful." She smiled at his impassioned speech. It wasn't like him to express himself and make declarations, but she'd take what she could get. It was progress.

"You fucking better. Now, get your arse in there be a good little know-it-all, solve it quickly so I can take you home and shag you senseless." Draco kissed her quickly, laced with sweetness.

He didn't want to overpower her with emotion. He didn't want her to get lost in passion. He simply wanted her to feel the depth of his feelings. He cupped her face firmly, teasing her lips slowly before embracing her. He inhaled deeply, reveling in the caress of her curls against his cheek.

Hermione smiled brightly, while her knees were shaking and tossed a little wave before heading into the Auror Training Hall. Draco exhaled and wondered where in the bloody fuck the observation deck door could possibly be when it appeared beside him.

The room was almost completely bare besides a half dozen plush chairs near the picture window. Draco squinted in the glaring overhead light. He found he could see Hermione and Bill walking around the Training Hall, giving the object a wide berth. He had expected a music box on a pedestal; instead it was the biggest bloody music box he'd ever seen. It was taller than Bill and Draco wondered if it housed a trio of musicians.

"I wish I could hear them." Draco mumbled to himself, plopping into the chair closest to the middle of the window.

"...Room of Requirement. It's a newer training facility. I don't even think Harry's trained in here. You'll have to be sure to tell him all about it."

"So if we happen to be stuck in here for days on end, the room will provide us with sleeping quarters, food and a loo?" Draco leaned his head back on the chair and closed his eyes. He'd be fine as long as he could hear her. He supposed the Observation deck was similar to Hogwart's Room of Hidden Things as well, which suited him just fine.

"Harry told me, you know. Sorry, but I always like to start without anything hanging over me. Clear the air if you will. I'm not prodding. Like I told Draco, I don't care, not really. I just wanted you to know that I know. If you need to talk or if the two of you need anything, send us an owl. Fleur and I are well versed in opposition." Bill laughed then, rolling up the sleeves of his striped button up.

"I didn't think...it would be this difficult. Which is stupid really, I mean, in what world are Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy going to welcome _me_ into their family. Let's just get to work. I don't want to think about it now. It's distracting." Hermione tucked her wand into her hiking boots and it was only then Draco noticed she was outfitted for a tromp in the woods, which he found curious.

"Alright then. The family swears this is a music box. I've never seen such a thing, unless they've entombed an entire orchestra inside, I doubt this is _only_ a music box but that's neither here nor there. I've removed the enchantments on the back and the right side. I'm halfway through the left side, but the front is all yours. There are layers of enchantments and I've broken down two layers. The third layer seems to have been placed there especially for you. It's strange. While it's the third layer, it's a newer enchantment and since I'm prohibited from questioning the family directly, I haven't a fucking clue if they have any connection to you at all."

Draco soon grew bored. Hermione did more speaking than actually doing. How Bill wasn't ripping his ridiculous red hair out by the roots was anyone's guess. He wished he had known what he would be reduced too. He was a nanny for lack of a better term. He also wished he had brought along a few books or even his overflowing inbox. Draco jumped as the two chairs beside him morphed into a long, yet thin desk. He spied his favourite quill as well as a small stack of parchment. Draco ambled over and found himself immersed, while casting furtive glances down to his wife.

* * *

*_Present_*

* * *

"Malfoy! How long have you been here?" Harry kicked the leg of Draco's chair trying to rouse the slumbering wizard.

"Fuck off. It's too early." Draco grasped the back of his neck, blinking rapidly. "Ugh, I'm still here. I need coffee." Harry thrust a mug onto the desk, perching on a chair, curiously watching Bill.

"Did you know I can't get in there? I tried. Wasn't the best idea I've ever had."

"You're not known for your brilliance Potter." Draco sipped the coffee and grimaced. "You'd think after being my bloody partner for years you'd know how I take my coffee."

"I'm not your wife, mate. Suck it up."

"Suck what up?"

"Ugh. Nevermind. D'ya know if I can get a message to them?"

"You're not interrupting them, Potter. She's working on a blood magic enchantment. You and I both know how Dark that sort of magic is. That's my wife. Whatever it is, can wait."

"Charlie was attacked. He's alive, but he seems to have a few new additions to the scars on his back." Harry never looked at Draco, his curiosity piqued by the waving of Hermione's hands.

Draco vaguely remembered willing Hermione to shut up while drooling on his makeshift desk and the room had complied. He had no intention of informing Harry Potter that it was possible to eavesdrop on Bill and Hermione.

"Runes?"

"Of course. Stori's going to kill me. I haven't been home since I left for Quidditch Training Camp."

"Oh, you're a dead man, Potter. Seems the killings are closer together. He's getting agitated."

"D'ya think it's a bloke?"

"I don't care. It's easier to say he than he or she every bloody time and Granger smacks me every time I say they, therefore I dub psychotic murdering fiend he."

"Ludovic Bagman is dead."

"Who cares? Fat arse pervert."

"He was all carved up too."

"Bloody fantastic, Potter. Why don't you go work the case and I'll keep an eye on my wife and your brother and..."

Their vision was drawn to Hermione. She was jumping up and down and if Harry had to guess, squealing in excitement.

"Sound." Draco demanded of the room and instantly the Observation deck was filled with Hermione's shouts and Bill's vigorous clapping.

"I think they've made a break through." Harry sipped his coffee, making a face.

"Very good, Potter. Ten points for Gryffindor for stating the obvious. You're right shite at brewing coffee."

"You could always make your own, you ungrateful prat."

"Nonsense, if I do that, I can't tell my children Harry Potter used to make me terrible coffee." Harry rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Alright then Bill, I'm going to pull the runes one by one." Hermione's voice shook a bit and Draco was instantly on his feet, his hands pressed against the glass.

Hermione stood directly in front of the magical box. It was obvious she had slept in her clothes and her hair was a knotted mess, yet Draco thought she was lovely just the same. Bill stood to the side, pressed against the wall, while Hermione swished and flicked her wand, slowly pulling the shining golden runes to hover above her head.

"Seven runes." They heard Bill murmur excitedly.

"I didn't know Bill could count."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

* * *

Hermione studied the runes floating above the ornately jeweled magical box while nibbling her bottom lip. She'd been awake for too long. She almost wished she had taken Bill's advice and attempted to get a good night's sleep, but the very thought was ludicrous to her. She'd gone days without sleep, she'd barely hit eighteen hours and Bill certainly hadn't slept. As exhausted as she'd been, the very idea was practically offensive. Bill had forced the issue and while she had lain on a lumpy cot for a few hours, she'd never slept. Hermione swayed on her feet and Bill was instantly at her side.

"Are you alright?"

"Nothing I can't handle, Bill." Hermione lied. Her stomach lurched. She closed her eyes, willing her stomach to cooperate. She'd always had an issue with nausea when she deprived herself of sleep.

"You look a little...piqued. Here." Bill thrust a paper cup of tea into Hermione's wavering hands. The steam rising from the cup was pleasant smelling causing Hermione to sip it slowly.

"That's lovely. Exactly what I needed." She closed her eyes as the hot tea worked its way toward her unsettled stomach and sighed.

Hermione was exceedingly excited. While it wasn't an outward display, Bill took note of the shine in her eyes.

"I've taken to studying runes. I'm nowhere near where you are, but I've made a bit of progress. For instance, I know those particular runes are letters, not words or phrases. That's something I suppose." Bill resumed his stance leaning against the wall, allowing Hermione to work.

"That's brilliant. It took me quite a long time to learn the difference considering there are so many different runes, translations and even interpretations and..." Harry and Draco zoned out as Hermione droned on about the history of the ancient rune.

"Mute!" Draco shouted at the room.

"Does she do this at home as well?" Harry inquired casually, draining the last dregs of hideous coffee.

"Oh, she tries, but I kiss her. Shuts her up every time. Never repeat that, Potter. Dirty little gossip." Harry blushed and pressed his forehead to the glass.

"Turn the sound on, she's translating the runes." Harry smiled grandly as the room acquiesced to his demands.

"C. O. E. R. U. T. D." Draco quickly grabbed a quill, writing down the letters. Harry pored over the parchment as they argued and arranged the letters until their eyes widened in shock.

Their fists poured the glass as they screamed themselves hoarse, yet Bill and Hermione were oblivious.

"I'm assuming once we unscramble the letters we'll be home free." Hermione shimmied her shoulders in happiness. She studied the letters, rearranging them in the air while humming a little tune. Hermione stopped as cold realisation seeped into her very bones.

"I've got it. Wow. It was really easy actually." Bill nodded slowly, quite pleased with himself.

"NO!" Shouted Draco and Harry from the Observation Deck.

"Bill..." Hermione slowly stepped backward from the ornate box, her wand held in front of her.

Bill was so pleased with himself he misjudged the tremor in Hermione's voice as excitement. He didn't see her wand rise. He didn't see her lips moving to formulate a spell. He only felt his own jubilation.

"Prote.."

"REDUCTO." Bill interrupted, his blue eyes widened in abject horror the moment the word left his lips.

Hermione screamed, throwing her hands over her head as the magical music box burst open with a force that sent her catapulting across the room. With a sickening crunch her body crashed into the door, blowing it off its hinges.

Draco attempted to rush from the Observation Deck when it became obvious Bill was going to speak the spell, yet Harry held him fast. Harry suffered a few punches which would bruise terribly, but the force of the spell was so strong he didn't want Draco in the corridor. He was glad he'd made such a split decision. Draco had wrenched open the door and at his feet was his wife, on top of the splintered remnants of the door.

Hermione's right arm was bent at an odd angle, as was her left leg. Her chest was moving slowly, too slowly. Her head was seeping blood onto the door, which was dripping onto the floor. Draco could hear the thundering footsteps of what he assumed were Aurors, but he couldn't take his eyes from Hermione. He scrambled over huge hunks of the door to gather her in his arms. He knew he shouldn't be moving her, but he had to be sure she was alive. She had to be alive. She groaned and while it was laced with pain, Draco calmed slightly. Hermione was alive. Harry plucked Draco's shirt nervously.

"Malfoy. We've got to get her to St Mungos. Her arm is obviously broken. She's probably got a concussion but there's so much blood, I can't see where it's coming from..." Harry's voice trailed off as the puddle of blood beneath her grew.

Draco clutched Hermione with one arm, his other hand checking her for wounds and coming up empty until he reached her jeans.

"Potter, her slacks...they're soaked. I-I can't Apparate with her in this condition. I-I.." Draco's voice broke as he peppered her forehead with small kisses.

"Pucey, check Bill. Bring him to St Mungos. I'll bring the Malfoys. Send a Patronus, I want them ready for us." Hermione's lips moved as if it pained her.

"Baby, don't talk. It's alright. We'll get you fixed up. Promise." Draco continually stroked Hermione's hair off her face, her body scrunching in torment.

"I quit." Hermione finally managed to whisper as Draco leaned over her.

* * *

Healers and Medi-witches galore were standing in the corridor as Harry Apparated the Malfoys to St Mungos. Draco barely remembered what happened after they arrived. He remembered being slightly feral with the staff as they removed his wife from his arms. He remembered Harry forcing him into an uncomfortable chair and threatening to bind him.

"Draco..." He could hear his name; feel a large hand on his shoulder. He didn't want any of it. He didn't want to speak to anyone. He didn't want to hear anyone's voice. He wanted her.

"Get the fuck away from me."

"Bill, now's not the best time. Wait until we hear something. He's a right mess. Could you use the Community Floo and contact his parents and well, everyone for that matter. He'll need them. She'll need them too." Harry interjected, insinuating himself between Draco and Bill before hexes were thrown.

"It's my fault. It's all my fault. I knew better. I should have.." Bill cradled his head in his hands, his long red hair covering his scars from the stares of strangers.

Bill Weasley sat in the furthest corner of the waiting room. His mother sat beside him, absently patting his back as if he were an infant in need of a burping. Lucius Malfoy paced the halls, glowering at any Healer or Medi-witch who dared near the collection of witches and wizards without news of Hermione.

Harry was doing his best to keep Ron and Draco separated from each other, until finally Silencing Ron and begging Draco not to engage the rage riddled ginger. Narcissa Malfoy was the last to arrive, her pale features marred by red rimmed eyes.

"Oh my! Aren't we just busy busy busy today!" An irritatingly bubbly Medi-witch clapped her hands together loudly while smiling brightly.

Draco growled, his top lip twitching as it curled in derision. He gripped his wand tightly in his hand, intending to hex the witch into oblivion but found his target blocked by Harry Potter.

"Who's next then?" Her frizzy light brown hair bobbed as she nodded at Harry.

"Listen, er, uh.." Harry fumbled.

"Sydney. My name is Sydney, I'll be your Medi-witch today and.."

"There's nothing wrong with any of us. Hermione Granger er..Malfoy was brought in earlier and we're waiting for some news of her condition."

"Well. You can't wait here. This area is reserved for patients. I'm sure she'll be just fine. You should all just scurry along home and her Healer will just owl you all." She smiled again, flashing her pearly whites while scrunching her shoulders.

"Malfoy no! Don't!" Harry being a bit smaller than Draco was struggling. It seemed Draco was quite intent on simply beating the Medi-witch to death since it was obvious he'd never get a spell off with Harry bleeding Potter in front of him. Lucius turned the corner at precisely the right moment and shoved his son backward quite easily.

"Sydney, if you value your life, you'll get the fuck out of here and find us a Healer." Harry hissed, prepared to tie Draco to a chair. He'd never seen the wizard in such a frenzy.

"I was just...trying to help. It seems silly to just wait..."

"SYDNEY LEAVE THEM THE FUCK ALONE!" The last witch Harry Potter ever expected to see spouting profanity in a roar of rage of Luna Lovegood.

The wispy blonde had tied her hair back with a peculiar looking bow which matched her green Healer robes. Her normally serene face was contorted with flashing blue eyes, deep furrows of her brow and a high flush across her cheeks. She brandished her wand, which sent her radish earrings swinging erratically before stopping beside Sydney the Medi-witch.

"Healer Lovegood er Zabini," Sydney stammered, wringing her man hands," Healer Goldstein said..."

"Fuck him. He's not your bloody supervisor is he? He didn't assign you to Spell Maladies did he? I believe that was me. I also believe I told you to keep your arse where you fucking belong or you'd be reported. You have a nasty little habit of ingratiating yourself where you don't belong. If Mr. Harry Potter and his entourage wish to sit here all bloody night doing fuck all, they have the right to do it. It's not up to fresh out of training Medi-witches to depict otherwise. Now. GET YOUR ARSE WHERE YOU BELONG BEFORE I LET MALFOY LOOSE!" Luna shrieked, pointing down the corridor with her wand. Sydney bobbed her head, hurrying away from the terrifying Healer.

"Hello Harry, I'd say it's lovely to see you but these are most unfortunate circumstances. Mr. Malfoy, I think it's safe to let Draco go now. I'm sure he'd like to have a word with me. I don't have much to offer, but it's better than one's imagination." Harry gulped loudly and settled himself in a chair.

He hadn't seen much of Luna Lovegood since her marriage to Blaise Zabini but he knew Hermione had. Hermione hadn't mentioned the drastic change in their friend, however if it kept others from bothering them, he was all for it.

"Luna..."

"I'm sorry Harry. I'm aware Hermione, Ron and yourself have always been close and you consider her family, but in this circumstance, Draco _is_ her family. He'll decide what's to be disclosed after I speak with him." Harry blinked sharply.

He couldn't remember a time where his name didn't get him exactly what he wanted. He was aware it was a completely pompous thought, it simply also happened to be true. His green eyes watched Draco struggle to his feet, his face devoid of colour, his hands trembling a bit as he made his way to Luna. Harry observed Luna stand on her toes to whisper in his ear, while taking his arm and leading Draco away.

"She's an...interesting witch." Lucius Malfoy broke the stunned silence seconds before resuming his angry pacing.

Harry shrugged and decided to join him. It seemed to work for the patriarch and Harry was just about willing to try anything. He knew he should be sending an owl to the Minister or even checking on Charlie Weasley's condition...

"Fuck." Harry stopped short, his shoes skidding across the hospital linoleum as he worked his way back toward his makeshift family.

"Molly, Ron, Bill...I er...in all the commotion...I uh.." Harry rubbed his scar, frustrated with himself.

"Is it Hermione?" Ron leapt to his feet, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"No, actually, I don't know anything about Hermione. I suppose when Malfoy comes back...anyway. I forgot to tell you something really important. Kingsley's going to bloody murder me. Charlie's being transported here by Portkey. I was supposed to prepare you lot and then..."

"Then, I blew up Hermione Granger." Bill shuddered.

"Bill, it was an accident. Pucey's going over things right now and I'll bet you 50 galleons there was a timer and the minute she deciphered the runes in air they would have blown. Regardless, your brother Charlie?He's a bit of a mess really. Seems the person who's targeting witches and wizards here has a very specific agenda. He's alright. He's alive. He just has a few new scars to his collection..."

* * *

Luna Zabini led Draco Malfoy down the corridor toward the lift. She had looped her arm through his and he was thankful she wasn't skipping. He wasn't aware of where they were going. It didn't matter to him, not really. Luna could lead him anywhere she liked as long as Hermione survived.

"Healer Zabini, did you really berate Sydney in front of.."

"Fuck off, Goldstein." Luna ignored the nondescript blond Healer and continued to lead Draco. He could hear Goldstein sputtering behind them and found himself without the ability to even snort in derision.

"Blaise is rubbing off on you." Draco whispered, his eyes concentrating on the swing of the radishes.

"Yes." Luna lifted a shoulder in a shrug, stopping outside the last door on the right. "She looks a little rough. I just want you to be prepared. She's not awake yet and I shouldn't be doing this, but you won't speak of it." She smiled then, not a full blindingly bright smile just a hint, but it gave Draco hope.

He stepped through the door with his heart in his throat, choking back a sob at what lay before him. Draco Malfoy thought he'd never witnessed anything worse than Hermione writhing on the drawing room floor of Malfoy Manor all those years ago, but he was wrong.

Hermione Malfoy looked as if she were one big bruise. Her arm and leg were no longer bent at odd angles; instead they were restrained by splints, keeping them in place. Her eyes were blackened with dark purple bruises spread across her cheeks. There were cuts and scrapes in various stages of healing on her arms and forehead. He was pleased to see her breathing had improved immensely while slowly approaching the bed.

"It looks much worse than it is. The impact could have done some serious damage if it had taken place anywhere else. The new training rooms have light cushioning charms embedded in the doors and walls. Her right arm was broken as was her left leg, when she regains consciousness we'll give her some Skele-gro, but until then we've reset the bones and splinted them. She has a concussion and normally we'd want her to be awake, but considering her injuries, it's best if she rest as much as possible. We're monitoring her and her brain activity doesn't seem to be affected. We'll know more once she awakens." Luna covered Draco's hand with her own as they stood side by side next to Hermione's hospital bed.

"Draco. With the extent of damage, you have to understand..." Luna sighed, squeezing his hand gently, "we did everything we could, but.."

"But what?" Draco whispered, unable to tear his eyes from Hermione.

"We couldn't save the baby."


	12. In Pieces

**AN: I've been so caught up attempting to finish Glamoured I completely forgot to post new chapters on Pieces! Ugh! So, sorry for the delay! *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 12 - In Pieces

* * *

When Charlie Weasley awoke in St Mungos, he thought he was going mad. The last thing he remembered was having a bit of fun with a woman he met in his favourite underground haunt. He'd never made love to a woman before. Sure, he'd shagged them. He'd played their games and come away feeling completely unsatisfied but Susannah was different. She asked him what he wanted and let him.

He vaguely remembered falling asleep nestled into her pillowy breasts, in the wee small hours of the morning and then there was pain. Blinding pain. He didn't understand where it was coming from, until he spied Susannah using _his_ wand while he was trapped on his stomach. He remembered disarming her. One doesn't spend years working with dragons without becoming adept at wandless magic. Charlie closed his eyes, wishing he could roll over. He wondered what she had done to him. She was a brilliant dueler, of that much he was certain.

"Charlie!" Molly sobbed as she rushed into his hospital room, gripping his hand so tightly he almost wished Susannah was carving into him again.

"Mum. I'm fine."

"You're NOT fine! Some vile murderer decided to use you as parchment! You're lucky you're not dead Charles Weasley!" Charlie groaned, knowing he was going to be subjected to days of Molly's coddling. She was the only witch he'd ever known who could berate someone lovingly.

"Mum. I'm not the first nor will I be the last bloke to pick up a witch in a club and wind up a bit worse for wear." Charlie sighed, burying his face in the hospital issue pillow.

"Wait. It was a woman? That's the first solid lead we've had, besides the runes themselves of course."  
Charlie hadn't expected to spy a bright eyed Harry Potter at his bedside.

"Harry? Did mum call everyone then?"

"We were already here, sort of. Hermione got blown up. She'll be alright. At least that's what Luna says. Bill's a bit beside himself. We sent him home the moment Malfoy emerged and told us she'd live. He keeps mumbling to himself but he won't let us get near him or her for that matter. It's been three days, when d'ya think he sleeps?" Harry flounced into an uncomfortable chair and slapped Charlie on the shoulder.

"Potter."

"Oh Merlin, sorry Charlie."

"What's this about Hermione?"  
"Yeah, she had a bit of an accident on an enchantment she was working for Bill. She's a bit banged up and she hasn't woken up yet, but everything's fine."

"Not everything." Molly mumbled having an idea of what was causing Draco Malfoy to be so completely out of sorts.

"What's wrong then mum?" Charlie sighed heavily, wishing the Healer would hurry with the salve.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, Charlie. I have your father fixing your room up for you. It'll be so nice to have my boys back home. Bill's going to be staying for a few days. Ron's moved back in as well and now Charlie." Molly sniffed, wiping her watery eyes with the corner of her peasant blouse.  
Harry rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. Charlie, on the other hand, groaned loudly, which sent his mother hurrying from his room to track down a competent Healer.

"Charlie. You said it was a woman. D'ya think you could identify her?" Harry asked the moment Molly disappeared.

"That woman Ron was drooling over. Hot, sexy, best shag I've ever had, apparently also a bit psychotic. Remember her then? The blonde."

"Merlin's beard."

* * *

Hermione was aware of whisperings around her, yet she couldn't force her eyelids to lift. They were so incredibly heavy. Every part of her body ached and she seemed incapable of forcing her limbs to cooperate. If she concentrated, she swore she could feel warmth and pressure in one of her palms.

"...shocking loss.."  
"...have other children..."  
"...severe concussion.."

Internally, Hermione was panicking. She didn't recognise most of the voices at her bedside. At least, she believed it was her bedside. Something had happened, something horrible, yet she couldn't piece together the small bits of conversation. She remembered standing in the Auror Training Hall with Bill. She remembered rearranging the scrambled runes and then...

"Get Healer Zabini! Her heart rate is severely elevated!" If Hermione was capable of cringing at the sound of things crashing to the floor and a booming voice shouting beside her ear, she would have.

"Hermione. It's alright." Hermione felt the smooth cool hands on her brow, over her heart and was filled with a sense of peace and calm. "There, now, isn't that better?"

"W-what happened? Is s-she..alright?" Hermione's forefinger twitched into those soft cool hands which were covering hers. She knows that voice. That silky, deep, soothing voice.

"Draco, why don't you sit here and hold her hand for a bit. You really should be home, at least refreshing yourself. I know you won't though. You should let your parents sit with you a spell. They're quite worried." Hermione felt the pressure on her hand change. Instead of the soft cool hands of Luna Lovegood Zabini, Hermione knew Draco Malfoy was gripping her flaccid palm between his large, warm hands and felt her body sigh.

"She has to wake up. I can't...if she doesn't...I..."

"Hermione Granger is one of the strongest women I've ever known. She's almost there. If she happens to wake before my next round, let me tell her about the baby, would you?"

_*Baby, what baby? Whose baby?*_ Hermione felt the darkness encompassing her once more and wished to shout no! not yet! and yet her body rebelled against her.

* * *

Draco refused to relinquish his station at Hermione's bedside. He constantly tucked her knotted curls behind her ears and kissed her forehead. He held her hand and slept with his head on the edge of her bed. He argued with the Healers who demanded he allow them to do their jobs and growled as if he were a beast. His only saving grace was Luna of all things.

Luna kept the other Healers away, especially after Draco sent a particularly nasty hex flying toward Healer Goldstein. The Healer had made an untoward comment concerning Hermione, which snapped the last remnants of Draco Malfoy's patience. She had forced Draco to drink the strong coffees she thrust into his hands and set up a cot for him to slumber. She'd kept Harry and the Weasley's from badgering him when she forced him to give them an update on Hermione's condition. Draco decided perhaps Loony Lovegood wasn't especially Loony and perhaps he quite liked her.

Draco pulled the uncomfortable chair as close as he was physically able to Hermione's bedside and was unable to resist standing over her. He studied the constant furrow of her brow and the gentle curl of her dark eyelashes. He ran his thumb across her pink chapped lips as they parted. He cupped her face tenderly, watching her chest rise and fall, until finally, the tears fell.

"Give him a moment Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. He's understandably distraught and.."

"We're well aware of our son's distress Ms _Lovegood_. I hardly think you are qualified to.."

"Lucius Malfoy you behave yourself. You are well aware I married Draco's best friend. You will give me the respect I deserve or I will ban you from the premises. Don't think I won't do it." Luna's blue eyes were filled with fire while confronting the man who once allowed her to be held prisoner in his dungeon.

"Healer Zabini, I apologise for my husband. He forgets himself often. We've been home and haven't heard a word. We'd like to check on them." Narcissa smiled slightly at Luna, perplexed by her sudden mood changes.

"As I was saying, Mrs. Malfoy, simply give him a moment. He's held it together until now. Considering the circumstances, I believe the least we can do is allow him a few moments to succumb to the range of emotions flickering in his aura. He's completely unsettled." Lucius harrumphed loudly, tapping his cane against the tiles, yet remained silent.

"Is Hermione awake yet?" Luna quirked her head to the side; eyeing the aristocratic witch. She'd never heard Narcissa Malfoy refer to Hermione as anything other than a Mudblood. Perhaps things had managed to change in the face of tragedy.

"Hopefully in the next few hours. She's in a lighter state of slumber and we're weaning her off the Sleeping Draughts. We've instituted some Muggle technology to administer Potions to comatose witches and wizards. It's been quite enlightening and allowed us to free up our magic for the more severe cases." Luna smiled brightly, her radish earrings swinging as she tossed her dark blonde hair over her shoulder.

Without waiting for a reply, Luna motioned for Lucius and Narcissa to follow her. She led them down the corridor to the last room on the right and motioned for them to enter before her.

"Please baby." Narcissa Malfoy's heart broke into a thousand pieces as she spied her son.  
His eyes were closed, yet it was obvious he was crying, with his forehead resting against his wife's. He stroked her face with a tenderness his mother was unaware he possessed.

"Draco?" Narcissa took a tentative step forward, clutching her dark purple robes in trembling hands. Draco turned toward his mother slowly, still wrapped around Hermione.

"Collect yourself. Malfoy's do not cry." Lucius sneered, stalking toward the window before his wife could reprimand him.

"Get out." Draco hissed, kissing Hermione's forehead before settling into his chair.

"Draco, darling. Your father and I are concerned for your well being. Surely you don't wish Hermione to awaken and see you in such a state." Narcissa stood across from her son, gazing down at her daughter-in-law. She stroked Hermione's arm lightly, waiting for Draco to acknowledge her.

"I'm not leaving her."

"Draco, listen to your mother. You're a fright. I'll have a meal sent up for you and I expect you to eat it. I don't relish the idea of you becoming my next patient. There's an adjoining bath. Please use it." Luna left the room with a bit of a skip in her step.

Draco snarled and stalked into the adjoining bath. Narcissa sighed in obvious relief as the sounds of water flowing seeped through the walls.

"Lucius, be kind to him. He loves her." Narcissa implored her husband, settling into Draco's vacated chair.

"Of course he loves her, he's weak. He's always been weak and now.."

"She was carrying our grandchild." She interrupted him, stroking Hermione's hand.

"I'm aware! It's simply…why would she put herself in such peril?" Narcissa was surprised to see Lucius rush to Hermione's bedside, staring down at her without malice.

"She didn't know." Hermione stirred slightly, her fingers twitching with a soft moan.

_*Pregnant? I was pregnant? I couldn't have been. I would have known. Wouldn't I? I'm not ready to be a mother. Am I?* _Hermione's thoughts tumbled while absorbing the inadvertent information.

"I'll try, Cissa." Lucius escaped into the adjoining bath with a swish of his robes.

"That's something I suppose." Narcissa sighed. She was unable to resist the urge to smooth the furrowing of Hermione's brow. "Really dear, you shouldn't frown so much. You'll wind up with premature wrinkles. Draco is in quite a state. I've never seen him…love anything, until you." Hermione took a deep breath, willing her body to respond to her demands. She felt her hand closing around Narcissa's and squeezed.

"Oh. Oh. Draco!" Hermione listened to the chair scrape against the linoleum tile. She could feel beads of sweat raise on her forehead and she wished to wipe them away, yet her arms were still so heavy.

"Mother." Draco emerged from the adjoining bath in fresh slate grey slacks and a navy dress shirt, which Narcissa assumed Lucius had brought for their son. He looked exhausted, yet clean.

"She…Hermione, she squeezed my hand." Narcissa's free hand fluttered at her chest. Gently she pulled her hand from Hermione's and walked to the window.

Draco was vaguely aware of shoving past his mother to reach Hermione. She inhaled deeply and the furrow of her brow dissipated. She smiled slightly at the sensation of Draco tucking her hair behind her ear and managed to turn her head into his hand.

"Get Luna." Narcissa flung open the door and the clip of her heels could be heard echoing down the corridor as Lucius hurried after her. He had no desire to witness anymore intimate moments between Draco and Hermione.

"Baby? Can you hear me? Please wake up, love." Hermione squeezed his hand, struggling to open her eyes. "Hermione, I love you."

She never loved her name as much as she did in that moment. Hermione felt his lips brush across her forehead and her cheeks, his hair tickling her nose. She felt his cheek press against hers as he repeated the personal mantra, willing her to wake.

"Please, wake up. You know I hate to beg. I love you, Nee. I love you, do you hear me?" He whispered it over and over, holding her head in his hands, his breath kissing her ear, her neck and finally her lips.

Hermione's brown eyes flew open with a gasp as Draco's head lowered to her chest. He sighed, listening to her heart pound within her chest. She was having trouble adjusting to the bright light of her hospital room yet still she managed to focus on her free hand. With sheer determination she forced her fingers to slide across her body until they were buried in Draco's silken locks. He pulled her fingers away from his head and stared at them for a moment before locking gazes with her.

"Oh baby." Hermione wiped away the singular tear on his cheek. Draco leaned forward and kissed her, quick and soft.

"Hi." She whispered. Draco laughed teasing her lips with the sweetest of kisses.

Draco buried his face in her neck, discarding the notions of dignity and cried with relief. He hadn't expected to love her as deeply as he did. He hadn't known it was possible until the moment he was faced with losing her.

"Look who's finally awake. Wonderful." Luna glided to Hermione with a bright smile and whipped out her wand. "Draco, I do need to examine her."

Draco sulked, furiously wiping the tears from his cheeks. His parents hadn't returned to the room and he was grateful. He didn't wish to endure another reprimand for expressing emotion by his father. He tuned out the majority of Luna's pleasant voice while she manipulated Hermione's limbs.

"I...I heard you." Draco's head snapped up at Hermione's raspy whisper.

"They do say patients are perfectly capable of hearing their environment while in a comatose state." Luna held a glass of water to Hermione's lips.

"I..I was..I was pregnant?" Hermione gulped the water gratefully, lacing her fingers with Draco's.

"Hermione. I'm not going to lie to you. I thought about it for a moment, quite honestly, but I never relished the idea of the Blibbering Humdinger's attacking my psyche. They're very disruptive to those who intentionally lie. It's not your fault. You didn't know. If you had known you wouldn't have.."

"H-how did I not know?" Draco kissed her temple, never taking his eyes off her.

"I expect you were a bit more tired than usual but other than that? The symptoms of pregnancy appear at different times with every witch. Considering the levels of stress you've been under, I'm sure an errant cycle or two would have gone completely unnoticed."

"H-how far.."

"Hermione." Luna sighed, "If I had to hazard a guess, which is what I suppose you're asking, I'd say you were about two months gone. It's the best guess I can give you. You were a right mess. I'm going to remove the splint on your arm and give you a Pepper-Up-Potion. If you can manage to keep down a light meal, we should be able to release you tomorrow. Healer Perkins suggested administering the Skele-gro through Muggle intravenous means and it worked perfectly." Luna patted Hermione's covered foot and left.

"I-I'm s-sorry. I'm sorry." Hermione burst into tears, covering her eyes. Draco pulled his wand from his back pocket and transfigured the narrow hospital bed into a double. Without asking permission, he climbed in beside his wife and pulled her to his chest. Hermione sobbed, yanking on his shirt until they were flush against each other. Draco shushed her, rocking her slowly, until she calmed.

"We didn't know, love. It was an accident, they do happen. Surely you know that after being friends with Potter and the Weasel for so many years."

"I didn't know...I wanted a child, until...until it was gone."

"Hermione, love, we'll have as many as you like. Girls, boys, I don't care. A dozen, half a dozen, it's not as if we haven't the money. And if by some cruel joke of Merlin, we can't have any? We'll buy some. Muggles do it." Hermione laughed through her tears at his declarations.

"Muggles do not _buy_ children, Malfoy. They adopt them. I don't want a dozen children. That's ridiculous."

"Whatever Muggles do, we'll do it. How many would you like then?"

"Let's start with one."

"We've got to have more than one. I was an only child, quite horrid." Draco nibbled her ear, distracting her effectively as she dried her tears.

"You called me Hermione."

"That's your name, love. Did you forget?" Draco smirked, tugging on the curls beside her ear.

"No," Hermione spoke breathlessly, lost in the storm of his eyes, "I-I heard you as well." Draco stiffened slightly, his arms tightening around her before relaxing.

He decided it didn't matter. He tilted her head, his thumb grazing her jaw and kissed her. He toyed with her lips, nibbling her bottom lip, his tongue teasing her upper lip until she opened her mouth under his ministrations. Hermione gasped, threading her fingers in the overgrown hair at the base of his neck until he pulled away.

"I love you, Hermione Malfoy." He didn't wait for a reply or a rebuff; he kissed her soundly and laid her back in the transfigured bed. Hermione curled into his chest, her leg thrown over his and she smiled as his breathing slowed. She pulled the thin blanket over them and while she had slept for days, it wasn't the same as sleeping beside her husband. When Narcissa snuck into Hermione's room, she smiled at the sleeping couple entwined around each other and slipped out.

* * *

"What do you mean she doesn't exist? She bloody exists. I shagged her." Charlie glowered at Harry while another Auror took photographs of the carvings on his back.

"I'm simply telling you there's nothing in the records of International Portkeys or even International Floo Access. It's as _**if**_ she doesn't exist."

"Did you check my place for a magical signature? She was a bloody right good dueler. She was quick and silent. Most witches and wizards shout a bit but not her."

"Charlie, there were so many people scouring the area it was impossible to pick up anything besides the Ministry entourage." Harry wished he could turn to Hermione.

She'd give him a bit of insight; point him in the right direction. He didn't have that luxury. Draco refused to allow Harry or the Weasleys to visit her. It irked him, but he understood. He supposed he'd be much the same way if it were Astoria.

"Yes but, isn't there a way to sift through it all? How many people could have possibly been there? I never had visitors before Susannah. If you traced the signatures you did find back to Ministry officials then whatever one remained would obviously be hers and it would give you somewhere to start. Have you seen Ginny? I heard she got dosed with Imp." Charlie hissed while an inexperienced Medi-witch applied a healing salve to the carvings on his back. "You better have enough sodding evidence, Harry. I can't take another inept.."

"You can leave now." Harry interrupted Charlie, cringing as the young Medi-witch slapped salve onto Charlie's back. Harry knew it had to be excruciating and reminded himself to ask Luna if someone else could be assigned. She scurried from the room with tears in her eyes and Harry shrugged.

"Why must they torture me? Haven't I been tortured enough?" Charlie struggled to roll on his side with hisses and groans. Harry helped Charlie to sit up and handed him an amber bottle filled with a Pain Potion.

"It's Goldstein. He's a right prick. Malfoy hexed him the other day. It was fantastic. I didn't know Goldstein could run that fast." Harry snickered.

"You haven't told me anything about Ginny or Hermione. Are you hiding something from me? They're family."

"Ginny checked out alright. There were trace amounts of Imp in her system and after that raid at Nox, we have a load of wizards in custody but no one seems to know the origin of their supply. Kingsley's less than pleased as I'm sure you can imagine, but that's not my case. Thank Merlin. This Runamator case is kicking my arse and without Hermione I don't think I can crack it." Harry punched the wall, wincing as the skin of his knuckles broke yet he found some peace in the pain.

"Without Hermione it's hopeless mate. I'm surprised you and Ron can take a piss without her telling you how." Charlie laughed, until he couldn't laugh anymore and Harry let him. He had a point.

"Blimey, Charlie, if I'm not mistaken, you're the one who found yourself on the wrong end of a kinky witches wand.."

"Hey! If she hadn't carved me up, the sex would have been worth it."

"Hermione was pregnant." Harry sighed.

He hadn't promised Draco he would keep it to himself, but it hadn't felt right to speak of it. Astoria was so angry with him for staying in Romania after the Quidditch Training Camp she wasn't speaking to him. She didn't care if it was work related; he had been inconsiderate, yet again. He couldn't even blame her irrational pregnancy hormones, she was right.

"Why are you telling me this, Harry?" Charlie closed his eyes, willing himself to forget.

"You cared about her once. You still care about her; at least I believe you do. She's the closest thing to a sister I ever had and I needed to tell someone who loves her as much as I do." Harry tossed his glasses on Charlie's bed, rubbing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"You're talking to the wrong person. She married Malfoy. You should be talking to him. He loves her."

"He's a right mess and.."

"And what Harry? You thought because for about half a minute she and I had a thing or whatever, that I'd be the best person to burden? That's not bloody fair, Potter." Harry gulped guiltily. Charlie's bare chest was covered with a heavy sheen of sweat, his breaths laboured and his eyes squeezed shut tight.

"She would have been good for you and vice versa. Maybe if you two had given it half a chance she wouldn't be married to Malfoy and you wouldn't be trolling underground kink clubs looking for whatever it is you think is missing from your life."

"It's not like I didn't try, Harry. It's not like she didn't try. It was bad timing and then with Ron. He's my brother. We both felt an obligation not to hurt him even if he did bloody well deserve it. Is she...happy?" Charlie twisted the sheet in his fist until his knuckles segued from red to white.

"As strange as it is, Charlie, they fit. They're both a little broken but together? They mend each other. They have their issues, like every couple does but they come back together, as if they can't breathe properly. I peeked in on her. I thought Malfoy had gone to the loo, but he had transfigured her bed and they were wrapped together in such a way it was difficult to see where she ended and he began. I've never seen her like that with anyone, not even Ron and we thought she loved him. We were wrong Charlie. That wasn't love." Harry pretended he didn't see the shake of Charlie's shoulders and the dip of his head. Silently he left Charlie's hospital room, wishing he'd never said a word as the sobs broke through the silence, and he hated himself then.

* * *

Hermione attempted to stretch as she yawned yet found herself unable to move. Draco was wrapped around her once more, impeding her ability. The moment he felt her shifting his head popped up, searching her face.

"I'm alright. I need to use the loo." Hermione brushed sticky tendrils of blond hair off his forehead, giving him a slight smile.

It was the best she could do under the circumstances. Hermione was thankful Draco had barred visitors. She wasn't up to Molly's weeping and coddling nor Lucius Malfoy's cold indifference or even Bill's apologies. She had decided to send a few owls once she was released.

"I'll bring you." Hermione knew it was futile to argue with him.

Draco hadn't allowed her to set foot on the cool tile from the moment she woke. She didn't have it in her to argue with him about it. She knew normally she'd say something to the effect of him suffocating her, perhaps even coddling her, which was completely unnecessary considering all she'd survived, but it was pointless really.

Hermione was still wrestling with her emotions as far as the loss of their child was concerned and she knew he ached as well. They were both confused. It boggled their minds quite honestly. Neither of them had believed themselves to be ready for parenthood and yet they were mourning a loss, which caused an emotional ache so deep, they clung to each other. Hermione felt an emptiness and still she questioned.

_*How is it possible to miss what I never knew existed until it was gone?*_ Hermione sighed as Draco gathered her carefully in his arms and set her in the loo, waiting beside the door until she called for him. She didn't want to call for him, but he did worry so.

"Hermione!" Came the sing song voice of Luna, her long hair swinging, a skip in her step.

"Can I take her home now?" Draco implored, trying his best to keep the conversation light despite the worry etched in his brow.

"I've a potion for her and I need to go over a few things and then she's free to go. I expect she'll want to visit Charlie first. I also expect you'll make sure she rests plenty, Draco." Luna stood on her toes, waiting while Draco carried Hermione back to the transfigured bed.

"Charlie's here? Why on earth would Charlie be here? What happened then?" Draco's grey eyes narrowed.

Hermione's voice wavered, alternating it's octaves as she inquired about the older Weasley. He vaguely remembered hearing she had dated another Weasley yet hadn't thought it would be the dragon wrangler. She was nervous and he wanted to know exactly why. He was instantly suspicious, wondering if she still harboured feelings for yet another ex. Draco didn't wish to interrogate her, he wished her to want to tell him.

"It's an Auror thing. I suppose Harry will tell you, terrible gossip he is. Charlie was attacked by a woman he brought home and she carved him up a bit with some runes. Harry's with him now I believe, I'm sure they'd love to see you're alright."

"Maybe for a moment, if it's alright with Draco." Hermione pulled her husband down next to her, instantly leaning against him until his arm surrounded her. It helped placate the rampant flash of emotions which toyed with his insecurities.

"Let's get you ready to go home." Luna's bright smile was contagious and Hermione found herself smiling as well. "We have a few Potions which we're recommending. I expect you're feeling a bit of discomfort. That's completely normal of course. If it becomes too much, take a Pain Potion. Now, I expect you'll want a Potion for the bleeding. I had a special brew added to your intravenous concoction to aid with that and I suggest taking a Post-Natal Potion for the next three days until the bleeding abates. When you've concluded with that, a good Replenish Potion will put everything back the way it was before."

"Draco, would you mind..if I spoke to Luna alone for a moment?" With her big brown eyes wide, the corner of her lip caught between her teeth and the soft yet pleading quality which oozed through her words and expression, he couldn't deny her. Draco kissed her cheek and found himself leaning against the wall in the corridor.

"I suspect you wish to ask when you can resume relations?" Luna winked.

"Well, yes but I was also wondering..." Hermione took a deep breath. Part of her wondered if she should have broached the subject with Draco first. She supposed they could also discuss it later and at the very least she'd be informed.

"I always recommend that witches attempting to conceive should take a daily Pre-Natal-Potion. It tastes terrible, but Draco is quite adept at Potions, I'm sure he could do something about that. As for relations, with Muggles they need to abstain for six weeks after a loss and after giving birth, however, the Replenish Potion is designed to aid the body in using your magic to heal you at a faster rate. You should be in tip top shape in seven days. If the pain from your injuries lingers, which I don't expect it will, take a Pain Potion twice a day. As your Healer, I'm ordering you to rest. If I discover you've been at the Ministry aiding in another ridiculous case I'll bloody hex you." Luna smile sweetly and patted Hermione's cheek.

"Draco will make sure I rest. I'll doubt he'll allow me to walk, let alone work. I quit, Luna. Kingsley's going to have a fit if he hasn't already, but I don't care. I'll freelance from home. I'm never going to another site."

"You'll find something else. You weren't particularly happy there anyway. Blaise is looking for a pastry chef. He's looking for a lot of things actually. He has a tendency to fire...well everyone." Luna laughed and for once Hermione didn't think it strange. It was comforting.

"I do love to cook. Draco swears by my macaroni and cheese. Luna? Would you...like to have tea with me? Not today of course, but one day soon perhaps?"

"I'd love too. As much as people have changed, they stay the same and I often find myself alone. Besides Blaise of course, he's wonderful. It would be nice to have a friend." Luna hugged Hermione tightly before skipping away without another word.

Begrudgingly, Draco escorted Hermione down the corridor to Charlie Weasley's hospital room. He wanted to take her directly to Forest Lake and alter all the wards to disallow anyone through. Instead he helped support his wife as she took unsteady steps. Draco had offered to carry her but Hermione being Hermione had adamantly refused as he knew she would.

"I don't understand why we have to do this now. Why can't you send him an owl?"

"Draco, we're here. He's only down the hall. I promise we won't stay long." Hermione wanted to be frustrated with him yet found she couldn't. He loved her and was being his protective, possessive self.

"I wouldn't drag you to visit Daphne." Draco was petulant and completely unashamed.

"You dated Daphne? That's just vile."

"It was a lapse in judgement."

"Obviously."

"As if you've never had them?"

"I don't wish to argue with you, Malfoy." Hermione sighed, stopping their progress to rest against the pale yellow wall.

"I don't either. I want to take you home. I don't want to visit Charlie Weasley. I don't want to feel as jealous as I do." Hermione's ire softened at his unintentional confession. She curled into him, inhaling his dress shirt deeply. She forced him to look down at her, holding tight to his face.

"Draco Malfoy you listen to me." He almost smirked at her stern tone, yet the light in her eyes stopped him. "I married you. It doesn't matter whose idea it was in the end. I'm yours as much as you're mine. I didn't expect it. I didn't think it would happen. I mean, I've always cared about you but.."

"Granger, I'm losing you." Draco smirked, tapping her forehead with his finger. "What are you saying?"

Hermione huffed before closing her eyes and taking an unsteady breath.

"Merlin help me, I love you." Draco thought his heart would burst.

He hoped, he wished but he wasn't sure if he'd ever win her heart. Hermione's eyes opened and before she could go off on another of her tangents, he kissed her. In the middle of the ugly yellow corridor of St Mungos, he kissed her. Draco held her as if she would break, as if she would disappear and he would wake from a dream he wished to be reality. He gripped the soft fabric of the long, flowing, navy blue dress his mother had sent, in order to keep himself from gripping her too tightly. Hermione fingered the silk of his shirt on his biceps as they lost track of the moments between lips meeting lips and the sighs as tongues entwined.

"Er uhm, sorry. Glad to see your better." Harry Potter skirted around the corner and found himself caught between watching his best mate snog her husband and interrupting them. He opted for the interruption for the sake of his sanity.

They didn't jump away from each other as if they were teenagers caught by their parents in the moments before curfew. Their lips came together once, twice, three times before Hermione glanced over her shoulder at Harry.

"Luna told me about Charlie. Thought we'd stop in before heading home." Harry didn't want to tell her he made Charlie cry. It hadn't been his intention, not really, yet it had been his fault just the same. Instead, he smiled and embraced her lightly, despite the glower he received from Draco.

"I'm sure he'd like that. Perhaps it would give me the opportunity to have a chat with Malfoy. Kingsley wants me to.."

"No, I don't think so Potter. I quit." Hermione wasn't surprised by Draco's declaration, not really. She had assumed he would vacate his position the moment she fully recovered. He didn't love his position anymore than she had loved hers and in the face of constant danger, it was pointless to continue.

"Malfoy! Quit? Really? That's a little drastic don't you think?" Harry was completely gobsmacked.

"No, Potter, I don't believe it is. My wife was bloody well blown up for all intents and purposes. I don't think she'd appreciate it if I continued in such a dangerous line of employment considering she's quit as well. It's not as if we need to work. We're bloody rich, remember?"

"Hermione, you quit as well? How am I supposed to solve this sodding case?" Harry groaned, yanking his Muggle jeans up by the waistband.

"You're The-Boy-Who-Lived, I'm sure you'll figure it out just fine. I'm not against consulting on an as needed basis however field work is completely out of the question." Draco drawled drawing Hermione into his side.

"Would it...be alright then, if I sent you the photographs of the runes? I have to track some magical signatures and we have our first solid lead but I don't know if it will get us anywhere and I could use the help." Harry was a step away from getting on his knees and begging, which he knew he'd never heard the end of, yet drastic times called for drastic measures.

"I'm sure we can work something out. Kingsley sent me an owl. There's an Auror from the Magical Congress and he's relocating here. Why, I haven't a clue, but I've heard good things of him. Request him."

"An American Auror? Really? What's his name then?"

"Nick Moretti. The transfer papers have been done for a bit. Kingsley said his International Portkey will activate sometime this evening. It's imperative he be here tomorrow. I don't know why." Draco shrugged, draping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Tomorrow is Valentine's Day...bugger."

"Fantastic."

"I don't want to think about that now. Draco, can we visit Charlie and go home? I'm getting a bit tired. I just want to see how he's fairing and we can leave. Promise. You can stay here and chat with Harry if you like. I'll only be a minute." Draco nodded, even though it was against his better judgement, if only to please Hermione. She smiled brightly and hugged him tight, which made it all worth it.

* * *

Charlie Weasley swallowed hard, wiping his face with the stark white sheet the moment he heard Hermione Malfoy speaking outside his door. The pang in his heart as he heard her soft spoken words of love to her husband, almost made him weep. Instead he concentrated on shoving the remnants of emotion to the deep recesses of his soul. He knew he'd lost her. He knew he'd never truly had her, yet it didn't hurt any less.

"Charlie, it's been too long." Hermione smiled as she swung open his door, her movements slow and stilted.

It was obvious she was in pain yet pushing through, like she always did. Charlie's returning grin didn't reach his eyes, but she didn't notice as she concentrated on every step until she sat beside him.

"Heard Bill blew you up." Charlie teased trying to lighten the tension between them.

"It was an accident. He was simply excited. He didn't do it on purpose. I suppose he's a right mess as well. I'll have to send him an owl. I'm f-fine." He didn't comment on the tremble of her fingers, nor did he reach for her hand even though he'd held her hand numerous times throughout the years. It didn't feel right anymore.

"I know." Hermione searched Charlie's brown eyes, quickly looking away.

She had always suspected he had continued to harbour feelings for her long after they had parted ways. She always thought it was a bit silly honestly. They had never really begun, the way she and Ron had never truly begun. It was a few errant kisses, innocent hugs goodnight and a few conversations that lasted until morning before they both came to their senses. At least she believed they both had. Hermione hadn't wanted to jump from one relationship to another, with her ex's brother no less. She didn't want to be the wedge that drove them apart. Charlie had understood, at least he convinced her he understood. The longing in his eyes, laced with hurt told her otherwise.

"Harry says you're the only survivor thus far. That's a pretty fantastic feat."

"I'm a Weasley. We're nothing if not resilient." Hermione twiddled her thumbs, unsure what to say to him. Charlie sighed, leaned over and touched her shoulder. "You love him then?" The forlornness in those words was enough to make her cry, yet she didn't.

"Yea Charlie, I do. I really do. He's a good man and he loves me and he's good to me. Really good to me. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression. I didn't mean too."

"I know. It was silly wasn't it? I never understood why you went back to Ron after we..." Charlie sighed in frustration. "He was never good enough for you. He's my brother and I love him, but you would have been miserable. I can't say I would have made you happy either, but you seem happy now. I'm glad. I hope you catch the twat who did this to me." Hermione stood slowly, with a bit of difficulty and tucked a long red hair behind Charlie's ear.

"I went back to him out of guilt. Even though we were apart at the time, I felt as if I betrayed him with every moment I spent with you. I know that sounds a bit harsh, but I'm nothing if I'm not honest. You're a good man Charlie. You'll always be a good man, but we never would have worked. I would always feel guilty for choosing you. It doesn't make a bit of sense really. Ron was never really good to me. I think I attached myself to him because of how much I love your family. I am happy now. I didn't think I would ever be happy. I didn't think I deserved to be happy, but I was wrong. Everyone deserves a bit of happiness and Malfoy is mine. You'll find yours too." Hermione adjusted the blankets draping over Charlie's lap with a small smile. Charlie glanced up and cracked a smile.

"Take good care of her, Malfoy. She's worth it." Hermione spun on her heel with wide eyes. Draco propped the door open, casually leaning against it with his arms crossed and wary eyes. They brightened considerably spying the blush on Hermione's cheeks as she made her way to him.

"Always." Malfoy inclined his head at the older Weasley before bending to lift his wife into his arms. She was obviously exhausted and welcomed it.

"Take me home." Hermione whispered into his neck, kissing him soundly.

* * *

"Tell me again."

"I've already told you."

"So? Tell me again."

"You're quite demanding aren't you?"

"Of course I am. I'm a Malfoy."

"That's not going to work on me anymore. I'm a Malfoy too."

"Then you should understand."

"Fine. I love you."

"Well that hardly counts. Doesn't sound like you meant it at all."

"You're going to miss your Portkey if you keep this up." Hermione sighed, trying to keep the stiff smile on her lips yet knowing it fell flat.

She'd been home from hospital for a week and it hadn't taken long for the continuous owls to disrupt their peace and quiet. Hermione had adamantly refused to take a second glance at the rune photographs. In a rare fit of rage, Draco had found her tossing her rune translation books into the fireplace. He was quite glad he'd stopped her before she'd destroyed the older texts. He knew she'd regret it eventually. Draco had to give her credit, she really was trying and while he himself had moments of sadness, he knew Hermione was practically consumed by it. He knew she blamed herself and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

Hermione hadn't browsed through the accumulation of owl posts on the foyer table. She'd incinerated a Howler before it had the chance to shout at her. She'd cut off communication with everyone and her conversations with Draco were severely lacking. He didn't want to push her, but something needed to be done. He was hoping the unexpected trip to Italy would allow Hermione the solitude to come to terms with everything and move forward.

"I thought you weren't doing field work anymore." Hermione knew better than to protest. They both knew she didn't really mean it anyway.

"It's not field work. The new guy is taking care of everything quite well actually but Harry asked me to visit Yuri. Funnily enough, Yuri refuses to respond to Harry's owls. Apparently Yuri Blishen is quite fond of my wife and since my wife is out of commission it has fallen upon me to beg him of his expertise." Draco buttoned Hermione's tatty gray cardigan. He didn't understand her attachment to it, yet he knew it comforted her in ways he could not.

"Send Yuri my regards of course. How long will you be gone then?" Hermione tied her curls loosely at the base of her neck while slipping on a pair of gray sweats.

"It's only an overnight trip, just to establish relations. Perhaps I can convince Yuri to connect his Floo. It would make things so much easier. Mother will stop in later. I tried to convince her it wasn't necessary, but you know how she is." Draco sighed dramatically while pulling on a pair of Muggle jeans.

Despite his reservations, he quite liked them. They were hardier than his dress slacks and cooler than his wizard robes; of course he'd never admit it. He still couldn't be dissuaded from his dress shirts, but that was alright with Hermione. She thought he looked quite sexy in his jeans and button downs. She wasn't quite ready to venture back into a sexual relationship with her husband, but she did quite like to admire him.

"Bring me something pretty." Draco's eyebrow rose at the request.

Hermione was always telling him he shouldn't be so extravagant and yet she was requesting a gift? He wasn't one to question, since it allowed him carte blanche.

"I'm sure I can find something. Alright then, I'll see you tomorrow, it'll be late." Draco caught Hermione in a quick hug, kissed her cheek and was gone.

For the first time in a week, Hermione took a full breath. It was hard to keep up appearances. She didn't want Draco to see her being weak. She didn't want to feel the judgement oozing off him. She didn't want his comfort nor the empty words. Hermione wanted to be able to cry, sob, wail and even scream if the mood struck her and she couldn't do that with Draco's constant presence.

She slid off their bed and trudged down to the foyer, clutching the green cashmere blanket Draco had insisted she keep around her shoulders. She didn't care that it was dragging on the ground. It was soothing, which was exactly what she needed. Hermione snatched the ever growing pile of posts from the small side table and trudged back up the stairs. She'd been spending an exorbitant amount of time in what was deemed the children's playroom.

It was a loft really and Draco had listened to Hermione lecture him about compromising the safety of their imaginary children. The sage green walls, chocolate brown sofa and butter yellow throw rug brought her comfort. Hermione was all about comfort these days. She had insisted the flat screen telly be mounted on the wall and found herself once again, curled on the largest sofa, beneath her blanket, staring at the screen unseeing. It wasn't long before she began rocking, her keening ringing throughout the empty house.

Dink, the tiny brown house elf listened to his Mistress unearthly sounds and shuddered. He knew he shouldn't leave her, but Master would understand. Mistress didn't like to be bothered. She constantly sent him away with demands he not punish himself. He only wished for Mistress to be happy. He wished she would eat. She forbade Dink from telling Master she vanished her meals when he wasn't looking. At first he had refused but Mistress had threatened him with clothes. Dink's oddly proportioned body shook with the memory.

It wasn't healthy for Mistress. Master should not have left her alone. Mistress needed someone and he knew just who she needed. Dink knew Mistress wouldn't like it. Perhaps even Master would make him punish himself, but Master would forgive Dink if Mistress stopped being so sad.

Dink clenched his little fists, his wide mouth set in a grim line. Dink knew more than anyone gave him credit. He'd lived at Malfoy Manor before Master was ever born. He was glad when Old Master gifted him to Master. Master was kind and never made him iron his ears. Mistress always said thank you. Dink didn't want his Mistress to feel sad anymore. It was just a matter of convincing _him_ to come. Finally, with a firm resolve, Dink Disapparated.


	13. Healing

**AN: In celebration of finally starting the LAST chapter of Glamoured...you get another chapter of Pieces cuz i'm weird like that. this chapter was SO MUCH FUN to write. you'll see. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 13 - Healing

* * *

Draco swung his navy blazer over his shoulder as he strolled through the cobblestone streets, passing the vendors of various wares. He hadn't found the perfect gift for Hermione and he was completely discouraged. He knew she was hiding from him. Knowing her stubborn Gryffindor pride, Hermione probably thought he'd think less of her if she mourned properly. Although he scoffed at the thought, part of him was afraid she would think the same of him. His father's voice kept ringing in his ears.

_*It's unbecoming for a Malfoy to show such emotion. I taught you better than that. Malfoy's do not cry. You're a disgrace.*_

It had been a different time, with a particularly heinous madman at the helm, yet the words continued to repeat. Draco growled, frustrated with himself, his fingers instantly raking through his hair, as they  
often did.

"You need." A crusty old woman with a raspy voice interrupted his musings.

She looked a bit like a gypsy, or at least what he'd heard of gypsies with her multicoloured skirt, peasant blouse and wide scarf wrapped around her head. Her thick gold hoops swung gently as she waved a small silver rattle in his direction. Draco's heart wrenched painfully and he almost turned away. Her gnarled fingers tapped his exposed wrist as she beckoned him.

"I-I don't...I don't need...one, not, not anymore." Draco's bitterness and heartache was evident yet she smiled. A toothy grin, her gnarled fingers stroking his hand before gripping it tightly, dragging him toward her kiosk. She pressed the silver rattle into his hands, making his fingers curl around it, even as he tried to object.

"You take." She nodded, quite insistent.

"I don't bloody want it!" The insipid old wench winked at him! The audacity. She moved slowly along the shelves, her back hunched with age before snatching an object and placing it gently on the makeshift table beside him.

"Per il tuo amore." [For your love] To Draco's surprise, the decrepit woman pulled closed the flamboyant material surrounding her kiosk and withdrew a worn, crooked wand. She tapped the object once and smiled at Draco.

It was a snow globe. He'd heard of them, of course. Hermione had an impressive collection which she had stopped adding to since she sent her parents away. She had left them in boxes and stored them in the storage of the traveling room, refusing to speak of them.

The base of the globe was decorated with pink and blue bows, rattles and gift boxes. The front had a silver plate, which was obviously for engraving yet was bereft of words. The interior was what made his breath catch. It was simple in design, which Draco knew would appeal to Hermione. It was a woman, on her knees, in a long cream dress with a green shawl about her shoulders. Her long, dark hair fell in curls down her back. Her head was bowed yet her hands were palm up, facing the sky. In the corner of the sky was what Draco thought was some sort of fairy, yet upon closer inspection believed it to be what Muggles would call an angel. Her long golden hair flowed out behind her and her hand was outstretched toward the prone woman.

When Draco carefully picked up the snow globe and gave it a small shake, it wasn't snow which fell around the woman. Quite honestly it looked like fairy dust. The prone woman's face rose to the sky and the blue tears on her cheeks disappeared as she smiled. When the sparkling dust settled, she returned to her original position and it was then Draco noticed she was staring at what looked to be a scrap of blue fabric.

"Tap. You say." The gypsy pointed to the plate on the front of the snow globe insistently. Draco understood her to mean he needed to tap the globe and speak the inscription. As he studied the snow globe, he wondered what made him walk this particular way back to his hotel. He hadn't intended to find himself here of all places. He was thinking of bringing Hermione a rare book, but the more he studied the globe, the more he found it fitting.

The woman was obviously mourning and yet the angel, the fairy, it brought hope of a new dawn, a future sort of happiness and perhaps that's exactly what Hermione needs. Using his wand, Draco tapped the plate, murmuring what he hoped would aid his wife in healing.

"Buono. Molto buono." [Good. Very good.] Draco thrust a fistful of galleons into her curled hand. He tried to give her back the rattle after the snow globe was wrapped carefully, but she laughed at him.

"Prendere questo per tua moglie. Speranza per il futuro. [Take this to your wife. Hope for the future.] Even Draco couldn't argue with that.

"Grazie." He took the colourful bag by the handles, bowed slightly and walked away from the strange gypsy woman feeling a bit lighter.

Draco hadn't expected Yuri Blishen to be so agreeable to opening his Floo. Of course Yuri had refused Ministry access but for some strange reason he'd agreed to connect to Forest Lake with the promise of having tea with Hermione. They'd spent a few hours going through the photographs and translating runes. It had been informative to say the least, yet enjoyable. It also made him miss his wife terribly. He wished to spend the night in his own bed, yet his Portkey wouldn't activate until the following evening.

Which is exactly how Draco Malfoy found himself wandering aimlessly, searching for the little bistro Hermione had recommended to him for their sensational macaroni and cheese.

"Draco? Is that you? It is! How wonderful! How _are_ you darling! It's been too long!" The tall, elegant brunette smiled brightly, looping her arm through his, without waiting for acknowledgement.

She leaned forward on one leg, bending her other knee, sparkling shoe in the air and kissed his cheek just as the flash of the camera went off in their faces.

"Bollocks." Draco Malfoy snarled, looking into the shining eyes of none other than Daphne Greengrass.

* * *

Dink tiptoed through the imposing home, searching for _him_ while avoiding the other house elves. He knew they'd make a bit of a ruckus if they saw him and then they'd tell _her_ and Dink didn't want that.

"There you are, sir!" Dink bowed low as he was trained and stepped into the dark study.

"Dink? Did Draco send you?" The booming imposing voice almost made Dink tremble. Instead, he pulled himself together quickly and stood as tall as his tiny frame would allow.

"No, sir. Master is away. It's Mistress. Dink worries for her." Dink bobbed his head, his large brown eyes watching the tumbler of amber liquid as it was held to thin lips.

"Why on earth would you bother.." The voice dripped with disdain, but Dink knew there was a hint of worry.

"Dink knows Mistress is sad, sir. Dink sees her not eat. Dink sees her cry and cry and make terrible noises when Master is away."

"When will Draco return?"

"Dink heard Master tell Mistress tomorrow, but very late. Dink wants Mistress not to be sad."

"What do you propose I do about it exactly? I would think my wife would be better suited for such a situation." Dink jumped when the tumbler slammed into the shiny cherry wood desk. He frowned deeply and growled.

"Dink remembers. Dink remembers when sir made his mistress not feel bads anymore.."

"You were ordered to never speak of it!" The voice was growling with a repressed anger yet Dink carried on.

"Dink not speak of it. Dink remembers."

"You wish me to comfort her then?" The voice sneered and Dink almost smiled, but he did not wish to iron his ears.

"Dink wants Mistress.."

"Yes, yes, I heard you. I'll find my way there. Insufferable creature you'll never allow me to rest otherwise. I don't suppose Draco would appreciate returning home to find it in shambles. It's the least I could do, I suppose. Inform my wife. Never speak of this." Dink clapped his hands, his feet dancing on the plush emerald carpet before disappearing with a pop.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy snarled as he snatched his walking cane from the corner, his black robes billowing out behind him. He did not appreciate being guilted into visiting his daughter-in-law by a lowly house elf. When he landed in the foyer of Forest Lake, his first instinct was to Silence whatever was making the hair raising sound. He flipped his long pale hair over his shoulder and followed the echoing sound instead, which lead him to the upstairs loft.

Hermione was curled into a tight ball, half her fist in her mouth; her eyes squeezed tight shut as her chest heaved in shuddering sobs. Lucius harrumphed loudly. He laid his cane on the dark wood coffee table and removed his robes. Lucius had no intention of letting his robes be soaked by the tears of anyone, let alone his daughter-in-law's. He grasped Hermione by the shoulders and sat her up roughly. Hermione stared at him, hiccuping while she swallowed down her tears. Lucius tossed the edge of her caftan over her legs and sat beside her.

"Ridiculous." He arched an eyebrow, taking in Hermione's splotchy cheeks, red rimmed eyes and knotted hair with distaste.

"Go fuck yourself." Lucius smirked. The girl had fire, he'd give her that.

"Impossible. I was lured here by your house elf. Draco should punish him; he's quite uppity for a servant. However, for the sake of family and to stop the elf's begging, here I am. I demand entertainment. I was enjoying a lovely night of drinking beside a crackling fire and reading a delightful book on Potions." Lucius clapped his hands loudly; ignoring the incredulous stare Hermione was boring into the side of his face.

Dink appeared with a wide smile, which wavered under Hermione's glower.

"Dink. Your mistress is dehydrated from all her ridiculous sobbing. She's also quite thin. Prepare a cheese plate. Do not forget the fruit or the bread. You always were terrible with a proper plate. I think we could use a good bottle of wine as well. Your mistress looks as though she prefers a sweet wine, a white would be best. Make it so."

"You're bossy." Hermione sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

"I'm a Malfoy."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"The feeling is mutual. Now, explain to me a telly." Hermione grumbled, yet rose from the sofa and sifted through a large collection of movies before selecting one. She shoved it into the player and turned on the television.

"Think of it as Magical pictures, with sound and a plot. A book which is seen instead of read." Hermione flounced beside Lucius, eyeing him warily.

Lucius ignored the previews as he didn't understand the point of the snippets. They obviously weren't a full story. He wondered what Muggles were thinking as he sipped his glass of wine and nibbled on a bunch of red grapes.

"Cissa suffered a few losses before we were gifted with Draco." Lucius kept his eyes on the screen, yet his words were directed to Hermione.

"I don't want to hear this." Hermione whispered, pulling the caftan tightly around her shoulders and closing her eyes.

"I wasn't very supportive with the first one. I didn't understand. She hadn't told me yet. She was waiting for reasons I still can't comprehend. Not really. Perhaps it would have affected me more if I had known. I said all the wrong things of course. I told her we'd have others. Everything would be fine. I bought her extravagant gifts and showered her with love. She didn't want that. She didn't want any of that. She simply wanted me to allow her to mourn. How could I really?

'It was different with the others. She was moderately far along with the child before Draco. We felt that child tumble around within her. We watched her expand as the child grew. We decorated the nursery, too early of course, and we were deliriously happy. That was the loss that hit me the hardest. I didn't know how to comprehend such a thing. We're wizards. We're magical. We're supposed to be better than Muggles and yet our children die just like anyone else's. It's devastating, really.

'When Cissa was expecting Draco, I was a nervous twit. I didn't allow her to go anywhere unattended. I barely allowed her to leave our bed. The Healers told me how unnecessary it was, but they didn't understand. They didn't know. They didn't see her ripping out her prize roses, her hands riddled with thorns. They didn't watch her crash priceless heirlooms into the wall simply to watch them shatter. They weren't forced to stop her from pulling her hair out in clumps or force her to eat or drink. They didn't hold her while she screamed 'why' until she was hoarse.

'I did learn something. It's quite shocking, I'm aware." Hermione believed she saw a ghost of a smile.

"What did you learn?" Hermione paused the movie, hanging on Lucius Malfoy's every word. She wanted to continue to wallow, yet she found she couldn't. Not when faced with the stark reality that Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy had suffered in ways she couldn't imagine.

"Share the pain. Cissa hid it from me until she could no longer do so and it nearly tore us apart. Also, hope is a powerful weapon. If Cissa and I hadn't had hope that one day we would have a child and had given up after the first loss, Draco would never have been born." Hermione snatched a wedge of cheese from the platter with a slice of crusty bread and nibbled with contemplation.

"That would have been most unfortunate for me." Lucius spared a glance at her then and in that moment; Hermione learned exactly where Draco's smirk had emanated.

"Indeed. Now what am I being subjected too?" Lucius refilled his glass, giving the telly his rapt attention.

* * *

Draco nearly splinched himself in order to get as far away from Daphne Greengrass as possible. He shuddered with revulsion, quickly stripping off his clothes with a vow to incinerate them. He grumbled while tossing the few belongings he brought with him into his leather satchel. He could imagine the headline of tomorrow's Daily Prophet and wanted to get home as quickly as possible for damage control.

"Listen, Potter, I don't care who you have to bribe, I need to get home tonight." Draco bellowed into the cell phone Harry Potter had forced upon him.

"Fine. Fine! Come through my Floo. Kingsley promoted me, can you imagine?" Harry laughed. "I have my very own International Floo. I suppose being The Boy Who Lived comes with certain perks."

"I don't care." Draco climbed through Harry's Floo while desperately hoping Astoria was wearing more clothes than her husband. He felt the sudden need to Obliviate himself spying Harry in boxers.

"What's the hurry? I thought you were working with Yuri.."

"Potter. Shut it. I'll submit a beautiful report chock full of information tomorrow. I got bloody accosted by Daphne bloody Greengrass and I need to get home and tell my wife before the Daily Prophet sensationalises an accidental and unfortunate meeting."

"Fantastic. Good luck." Harry waved, trotting back upstairs without a backward glance.

Draco was surprised to see Forest Lake filled with light as he walked toward the house. Nervously, he opened the door and stepped into the foyer, his ears filled with the sound of his wife's laughter.

"Draco. Shush. Come into the kitchen." Narcissa crept barefoot across the tile and for a moment Draco thought he had stepped into the wrong home.

He'd never seen his mother without shoes, nor without her robes and yet she was flitting through his home in a pair of dark slacks and a black sweater in her bare feet. He heard another peel of laughter and if he wasn't mistaken, the low timbre of his father's voice as well.

"What the hell is going on here?" Draco hissed, allowing his mother to take his satchel as she handed him a glass of wine.

"I'm not quite sure exactly. Dink informed me your father was coming here. I thought your elf had imbibed your firewhisky quite honestly until I came here myself. They've been up there for hours. Dink has brought them a few bottles of wine, a cheese plate, something called popcorn and bits of chocolate. Dink says they're playing a telly, whatever that means and they've been arguing and laughing. I'm terrified to set a foot upstairs." Narcissa's pupils were dilated to the point where Draco could barely distinguish a rim of blue.

"I'm so bloody confused." Draco sat at the kitchen table, fingering the rim of his wine glass. "Daphne Greengrass accosted me in Italy."

"You best tell Hermione before the Daily Prophet does. Do you know your father opened her owls? Apparently Ron Weasley is quite put out. I know the two of you weren't paying a bit of attention, but the Ministry announced their ridiculous Marriage Law. The Weasley girl kept trying to come through the Floo in tears, but apparently it's blocked..." Angry voices interrupted Narcissa's bit of gossip and mother and son crept to the bottom of the staircase to eavesdrop.

* * *

"You are being ridiculous!" Hermione shrieked, tossing a handful of M&amp;Ms at Lucius.

Lucius plucked the coloured candies off his button down shirt and popped them in his mouth while shaking his head.

"Look at his grace! His obvious elegance! Look at that hair alone and tell me he's not a Malfoy. He's obviously a Malfoy. You're simply in denial."

"Simply because he has long platinum blond hair does NOT make him a Malfoy. You're stubborn and you never admit when you're wrong."

"I'm never wrong."

"Voldemort." Narcissa and Draco cringed, sitting beside each other on the steps.

"An error in judgement of my youth."

"Which was wrong."

"I was young and impressionable."

"Sure, the first time. What's your excuse for the second coming?" Narcissa gasped at Hermione's audacity.

"Touché."

"Say it. Say you were wrong."

"Malfoy's never apologise."

"Ridiculous."

"Now you sound like a Malfoy. Well done."

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment!"

"I disagree. I still maintain that young man is a Malfoy."

"Lucius! He's a bloody ELF!"

"Obviously magical as well." Draco snorted as his father completely ignored Hermione and she screamed into what sounded like a pillow.

"You do understand this is fictional? It was a book first."

"I think I'd like to read it."

"I think I'd like to smack you with it."

* * *

"I'm going to go up there before she starts smacking him about the head. She has a tendency to do that when she's angry." Draco whispered to his mother, standing slowly.

"I'll come with you." Narcissa gripped her son's arm and the two made their way to the loft, both terrified with what they would discover.

Draco blinked numerous times and rubbed his eyes. He could feel his mother's long fingernails digging into the skin of his forearm as they ambled down the corridor toward the loft. Hermione was reclined upon the chocolate brown sofa, her head in Lucius Malfoy's lap, of all places. His arm was casually tossed along the back of the couch, his dark green button up rolled up to his elbows, exposing his Dark Mark. Draco couldn't remember a time when his father had willingly exposed it. Lucius' legs were crossed and if Draco wasn't mistaken he was toying with Hermione's curls.

"If they had magic this entire journey would be pointless."

"Yes, but it's not just a story about saving species and cultures, it's about coming together in the face of opposition."

"So they can all die together, brilliant philosophy."

"Must you be so obstinate?"

"I'm a.."

"If you say I'm a Malfoy one more time, I'm going to hex off your bollocks."

"Well." Lucius harrumphed with a half smile. Narcissa almost keeled over at the sight. "I do believe Narcissa would take issue with that."

"Ugh. Please stop. The last bloody thing I need is a mental image of you and Narcissa starkers."

"Perhaps you'll think twice before referring to my bollocks." Hermione shoved a handful of chocolates into Lucius Malfoy's mouth and Draco was frozen. He half expected his father to Avada Hermione on the spot. He'd never seen his father in such a relaxed environment. It was terrifying.

"Do you think he wants to have children with me?" Draco backed slowly away from the loft, knowing he couldn't be seen and slid to the floor. He pulled his mother down beside him, ignoring her glowering protest.

"Do you wish to have children with him?" Draco smirked. His father always redirected that which he did not wish to answer.

"I hadn't thought about it. Not really, well, that's not exactly true. We had a conversation once, about the loneliness of being an only child. He keeps saying we'll have as many as I want, which sounds nice in theory but.."

"You wish to know if Draco would like to have a child for the sake of having a child rather than having one to appease his wife."

"Exactly."

"Ask him, silly girl."

"If he doesn't, then I think it would hurt my feelings. In which case he would change his mind in order to make me feel better and then resent me."

"Instead you'd rather needlessly fret? I suppose the rumor of my daughter-in-law being the brightest witch of her age was greatly exaggerated." Lucius sniffed with faux disdain.

"Jerk.

"Bitch. Do _not_ strike me!" Narcissa struggled to her feet and before Draco could intervene she was heading toward the loft.

"Lucius!" Narcissa Malfoy didn't know what to make of the scene before her, but she felt uneasy just the same.

Hermione sat up quickly without a trace of embarrassment which aided Narcissa's rising temper. She'd always been a particularly jealous woman and feeling the familiar burn under her skin toward her son's wife was the least thing she'd ever expected.

"Cissa, darling! Come sit. Ms Granger has introduced me to a telly and these delightful chocolate concoctions. You know how difficult it is for me to resist sweets." Narcissa relaxed prepared to sit beside her husband, instead finding herself firmly seated in his lap. "She threatened to hex my bollocks. I do believe an inspection is in order." Lucius Malfoy's fingertips danced along his wife's thigh.

"Lucius, are you inebriated?"

"Ew. Stop it!" Hermione leaped off the couch, stumbling from the room as Lucius and Narcissa quiet kisses turned into a heated snogging session.

Draco didn't want to scare her, but he wasn't willing to retreat either. He decided the best thing he could possibly do was wait in their bedroom. While Hermione seemed in better spirits, she was also a bit intoxicated. Draco knew she'd head to bed the moment he heard his father's less than subtle comments.

As Hermione slowly made her way to the master suite to change into a nightgown, she frowned as light was seeping beneath the door. She opened it slowly and stopped.

"You're here. I-I wasn't expecting you..." Her eyes roved his unclad chest hungrily, blushing as Draco slyly smiled.

"Miss me then?" He winked, suddenly nervous. He didn't relish the idea of explaining his encounter with Daphne, nor the explanation of their history which he knew Hermione would demand.

Hermione crossed the room slowly with a certain wariness before sinking onto the edge of their bed.  
"I'm glad you're back. I uh, had a bit of a meltdown."

"Are...you alright?" Hermione sighed, closing her eyes with the warmth of his concern and the tentative hand on her shoulder.

"I will be. Strangely enough, your father was quite conducive to the matter. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to live that down." She felt the bed sinking as he sat beside her, his cool lips on her temple.

"I've actually been home for a bit. I didn't want to interrupt."

"Your parents are probably shagging on our sofa."

"We'll burn it." Draco shuddered with revulsion.

"I'm not nearly as tired as I should be." Hermione shrugged off her cardigan, baring the yellow tank top she wore beneath.

She shivered when Draco's fingertips caressed her bare skin. His hand smoothed the back of her shirt until it reached the back of her neck. Gently, he pushed her back onto the bed, hovering over her, waiting until she opened her eyes.

"I'm not either." Draco whispered the moment before he met her lips with his own.

He knew it was silly to feel as if he were a bumbling virgin all over again as he touched his wife, but it couldn't be helped. He was treading carefully, prepared to stop the moment she protested. Hermione held her breath as her top was slid up her body, until it was gone. She sighed as he eased her sweatpants down her legs. She moaned as his body laid on hers in the dwindling candlelight. Draco gasped in wonder when Hermione grasped his length in her warm hand, stroking him with the tremble of inexperience. He rolled hardened peaks, following with the sensual swirls of his tongue as he worked his way down her body. She traced the grooves in his chest and he didn't balk, allowing her to explore the scars of his childhood. He found the thin scar on her ribs, covering it in butterfly kisses. As her begging whispers reached a crescendo, he sheathed himself in her. Every movement was achingly slow, creating gooseflesh on her flushed body. They came together out of need, laced with tears of all things, racing toward an end filled with peace.

Hermione listened to the steady thump of Draco's heart as she lightly tickled his ribs. Her thigh was casually tossed over his hip and he was drawing circles on her nude back while the moonlight streamed through the window.

"Your father read my owls."

"I saw Daphne." He expected her to push away from him in anger and was prepared to defend himself.

"On purpose?" Hermione kissed his chest, beside his nipple, looking into his pained grey eyes.

"Of course not. She accosted me quite honestly. I'm sure the Daily Prophet will have a field day with it."

"I don't care. I haven't seen her since Hogwarts but Astoria has told me enough to detest her. I know you have a history. I don't know all the details and I wouldn't ask. She's coming back and I don't relish the idea of seeing her."

"Merlin help us."

"Did you ever sleep with her?" Hermione propped her elbows across Draco's abdomen, her curls tickling his ribs.

"You just said.."

"I lied. Tell me." Draco groaned loudly under protest, yet propped himself up against the headboard.

"One time. She'd already been around; obviously that hasn't changed a bit."

"When?"

"Why are you asking me this? Are you trying to torture me? What's next a list of every woman I've ever slept with as well?"

"Now that you mention it..."

"Ugh..Nee, I don't ask you about your dalliances now do I?"

"Viktor Krum. Ron Weasley. Charlie Weasley. Oliver Wood. You."

"Wood doesn't count. It was only one date and he's a ponce."

"He's dead.."

"He's a dead ponce." Hermione slapped his chest, laughing even as she knew she shouldn't until he kissed her soundly. "You really want to know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know, though I refuse to be held accountable for my actions upon spying your former loves in public." Hermione sniff haughtily to Draco's delight.

"Snogging? Handjobs? Blowjobs? Shagging? You really must be quite specific." Draco winked, secretly wishing she would rise to the occasion but Hermione knew he was bating her.

"Your reputation as the Slytherin Sex God precedes you Mr. Malfoy and I'm not certain you'd be able to recall all your sexual liaisons."

"Are you calling me a slag?" He attempted to sound much more offended than he actually was, but he wasn't fooling anyone.

"Would you stop bloody posturing and tell me?!" Draco laughed, knowing eventually Hermione would lose the last vestiges of her temper.

"Delacour. Greengrass. Brown. Patil. Parkinson. Chang. Bones. Davis. Weasley. Clearwater. Turpin. And uhm..Vane."

"Y-you shagged all of them?! Here I thought you'd never venture beyond your own house for a quick shag. Apparently you're not particular!" Draco winced as Hermione's voice hit decibels unfit for human ears.

"I'm never going to hear the end of this. Listen Granger, I was young and quite randy, they were willing and I don't know a single teenage boy who would turn down a willing female. It's not as if they mattered! Fleur accosted me in a broom closet. I've never told a soul. Padma, I think that's the one, was a bit of snogging, nothing noteworthy. Pansy wanked me off during Potions and I'm pretty sure Snape watched. As for the rest of them? Yes, Granger, I bloody well shagged them, even your good friend Weasley. It was ages ago of course, during the war no less and I've never told anyone that either. I don't wish to talk about it any longer. I didn't care about them then and I definitely don't care about them now. How is it you managed to remain so completely innocent after dating those imbeciles?"

"They weren't imbeciles! Well, I suppose Viktor wasn't brilliant and Ron he's a bit dim. I suppose they didn't interest me enough to venture further than a few kisses." Hermione huffed, sufficiently distracted by Draco's well constructed barbs.

"Did they kiss you like this?" Draco wiggled his eyebrows, sucking her bottom lip into his mouth until she squealed.

"Absolutely not!"

"Good. Did they...touch you like this?" Draco flicked a blush peak until it puckered.

"Malfoy! They did nothing of the sort."

"Then what the fuck was the point?" He snorted, pulling her on top of him with a smirk.

"We walked. We talked. We got to know one another and well.."

"Sounds horrid." Draco patted her bum and yanked the blankets over them.

"It wasn't. Not all the time anyway. I mean, Ron was an idiot. He's still an idiot so we spent most of our time doing his homework. Viktor was too old for me. He was patient but it didn't feel right. I mean there wasn't that spark when he kissed me. Charlie is brilliant. Whenever he'd visit from Romania he'd tell me all about the dragons and..."

"Do you still care for him then?" Draco tried to wrangle the jealousy to a manageable level yet he discovered when it came to Hermione, there wasn't a manageable level. While he would never admit it, he was glad Wood was dead, Krum as well for that matter.

"Not the way you're thinking. I mean, maybe if things had been different and I'd never dated Ron, there would have been a chance? I don't know though. He's much older than I and.."

"Alright. I'm sorry I asked."

"Does it matter though? I mean really. I married you. You're stuck with me. I don't spend my time thinking about whether you would have eventually married Daphne or even Pansy."

"Merlin forbid. As much as my father wanted me to marry some perfect pureblood witch he choose, I never could stomach the thought. I wanted more than that. Especially after the war. Once I started working with Potter, well.." Draco stopped, feeling terribly unsure. He knew he loved her, he'd said as much, yet he'd never admitted how much he had fancied her.

"You could see beyond the strict guidelines of your father?" Hermione played with the ends of his hair while wondering if he was uncomfortable with her on top of him.

"No. Well yes but more like, there was only one witch I fancied enough to see where it could go. Do you know what I mean?"

"Did I ruin that for you then?"

"No, love. It's funny actually. I wound up marrying her. Fancy that." Hermione melted. She hadn't known he fancied her then, not really.

Sure, she'd overheard a conversation between him and Stori, but he'd never said such a thing to her before. She knew then, regardless of what they'd gone through or what they'd face in the coming days, they'd be alright.

* * *

"MALFOY OPEN YOUR BLOODY FLOO!" Hermione screeched, covering herself with the sheet regardless of the fact they couldn't be seen.

Draco climbed from their bed and tossed on a pair of boxers before heading downstairs. He snarled upon spying Harry Potter in his Floo.

"Potter. You best have a bloody good reason for tearing me away from my delectable naked wife."

"Malfoy. As much as I love Hermione, if I never have to hear of her nudity again for as long as I live, I'll die a happy man. I tried to phone, but your phones aren't bloody on. Stori's at St Mungos. She insisted the both of you come. I tried to talk her out of it. She kicked me out of the bloody room!"

"What's wrong then?"

"The baby's coming. She held off as long as possible. She broke my sodding finger. Put on clothes. Get your arses to St Mungos."

A few hours later, Hermione held the newest little Potter with tears in her eyes. Astoria smiled, closing her blue eyes. Moments later, Harry was amazed to see her sleeping. Hermione carefully opened the striped blanket, counting his fingers and toes, kissing his puckered lips.

"Did you settle on a name?" Hermione whispered, holding Harry's son tightly. Harry squatted beside Hermione, brushing his hand through the dark hair on his son's head.

"James. After my dad. James Sirius."

"Ohh Harry, that's lovely, really. Would you like him back? I don't want to monopolise your son."

"It's alright Hermione. I've got a lifetime." Harry sunk into an armchair, his green eyes already closing.

"Hello little one. I'm your Aunt Hermione. Teddy calls me NeeNee. You'll meet him. I bet your mummy is..is...is so glad...y-your here." She rocked baby James, holding him close and reveling in the new baby smell even as Draco slipped back into Astoria's room with cups of piping hot coffee.

He shoved one into Harry's open hand, spilling a bit, snickering as Harry jumped with a muted curse. He couldn't take his eyes off Hermione. She smiled and whispered through a curtain of unruly curls and caramel brown eyes overflowing with tears.

"Harry?" Astoria's sleepy voice caused Harry to catapult from his chair, flying to her bedside.

She didn't have the heart to ask him to bring their son. Her heart broke for her best friend and Hermione. She couldn't imagine their pain and didn't wish too. Astoria smiled lightly as Draco settled beside Hermione, peeking at the slumbering red faced baby. His arm slipped around his wife, his free hand prodding Jame's tiny fingers.

"She looks happy and sad at the same time. Breaks my heart a bit." Harry kissed Stori's temple with a sigh.

"Look at Draco's face, Harry. They'll get there." Stori yanked Harry into bed with her, snuggling into his side.

"He's so little." Draco whispered, afraid of waking the baby.

"He's just born, of course he's little." Hermione brushed a tear from her cheek using Draco's shoulder.  
Draco nuzzled her cheek, resting his chin on her shoulder while staring down at Harry Potter's son in awe.

"I want this." He whispered in her ear. Hermione sniffed, watching James face crinkle, his mouth opening in a wide yawn.

"Me too."


	14. Revelations

**AN: see. i haven't forgotten. i almost did, i'll admit it, but tada! thanks for reading my lovelies. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 14 - Revelations

* * *

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I know you don't, I'm not asking you to talk about it. I'm simply telling you what Yuri discovered and I thought perhaps you might be willing to listen to your husband complain." Hermione huffed loudly, pounding the dough into the counter.

She'd taken to cooking exorbitant amounts of food. She was constantly covered in flour, yet Draco wasn't going to complain. Hermione had started sending him to the Ministry with baskets filled with baked goods. It had certainly helped the other Aurors improve their opinion of the former Death Eater drastically.

"You want to use me as a sounding board."

"Frankly, yes. You're Hermione Granger. You know everything. You're brilliant and beautiful, incredibly sexy, the best baker I've ever known..."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Malfoy." Hermione groaned, rolling her shoulders as she pat the dough, covering it with a tea towel.

"Yes it will. It gets me into your knickers." Draco ducked, avoiding the flying biscuit aimed at his head.

"Fine. Tell me then. I've a spot of time before the biscuits are done, while the bread rises." Hermione perked on the edge of a barstool expectantly.

"It's a message obviously. You and Yuri sussed that much out before. However, Yuri didn't have the slightest clue about the runes on Charlie. They don't subscribe to rhyme or reason. I've hit the books, including the rare texts and.."

"Oh just show me the bloody picture." Draco flashed a brilliant smile and whipped the exact photograph he needed out of his satchel.

Hermione snatched it from his long fingers, avoiding his lips. It was amusing to her when Draco pouted and this instance was no different.

"Have you idiots finally realised Edgecombe and Corner are personal? While the crimes were committed by the same person or persons they didn't have a collective message similar to the other victims." Draco grumbled, standing behind her, kissing her neck.

"Yes, love. You're absolutely correct. Potter is bloody useless without you by the way."

"Tell me something I don't know, Malfoy."

"Weasley was paired with Bulstrode." He nipped her earlobe, his hands inching up her ribs.

"That's not funny."

"It's not a joke and you'd know it if you have bothered to read your owls. My father told me. He found it quite amusing."

"The murderer is targeting Harry."

"You've looked at the stupid picture for less than a minute! How do you figure that?"

"It's a guess really, but an educated guess. I mean, think about it alright? All the victims have been connected to Harry, myself and even Ron. It's not a former Death-Eater because it's too personal. This rune means lightning. If you think of it abstractly instead of literally, there's only one person I can think of which is associated with a lightning scar. Perhaps that's why she carved Charlie before she attempted to kill him. It wouldn't have scarred otherwise."

"Through my torment, you shall see, you deserve your tears, Harry Potter. That's completely terrifying, Nee."

"Yes well, I suppose you get to inform Charlie Weasley he has Harry Potter carved into his back. If you tell him with George, it'll lighten the mood considerably." Hermione gave Draco a shove so she could remove the chocolate biscuits from the oven.

"If she's targeting Harry, she could be targeting you as well."

"Malfoy, I don't bloody go anywhere these days. I Floo to Harry's to see James. I bring chocolate biscuits to your father. I spend the bulk of my days in this very kitchen."

"After what happened at the Ministry..."

"I'll be careful. I promise. Did Harry ever manage to sift through all the magical signatures left behind in Romania?" Draco snatched a biscuit, shoving it in his mouth before he wound up with a smack about his head.

"He didn't find a thing. All the signatures he came across were Ministry officials. Personally it wouldn't surprise me if one of them went rogue, but Potter wouldn't heart of it."

"He's an idiot."

"Tell me something I don't know." Hermione winked and it took every ounce of Draco's self control to restrain himself from shagging her on the table.

"The new Auror talks about my wife so often, I'm considering different methods of torture and death."

"Why is Nick talking about me? I only met him a few times."

"He's in love with your cooking. Potter's not allowed to share with him anymore under penalty of death."

"You're bloody adorable when you're jealous."

"Ginny told the Minister to go bugger himself."

"You're changing the subject." Hermione hugged him then. Her arms tight around his torso.

"Yes, I am. Doesn't make it less true. Apparently she and the hundreds of other witches and wizards who received owls are completely dissatisfied with their match."

"She's not matched with Theo I'm guessing."

"Oh no, Theo wound up with Hannah Abbott. Think she was a Hufflepuff? I don't bloody know, but I know she's a bit tore up about it considering she was engaged to Longbottom."

"Ohh, poor Neville."

"Poor Neville is right considering he's matched with Pansy."

"Sweet Merlin he'll kill her."

"Precisely. Perhaps that was the Ministry's plan all along. Did you take your Potion today?" Hermione groaned, slipping out of Draco's warm arms and shook her head.

She wiped her hands on her dark jeans leaving flour handprints on her bum, avoiding his gaze.

"Why not, love? Did you change your mind?" Hermione didn't have an answer really. It had only been a few weeks since their loss, a scant two weeks since James was born and quite honestly, she was scared. She didn't relish the idea of another loss. It was a slim possibility yet with Draco continuously working with Harry, she was nervous.

"Maybe we should wait, until the case is over and I'm sure someone expects me to be in a complete uproar over this Marriage Law and..."

"Nee, nothing's going to happen to me. I only go to the Ministry to hand off your copious amounts of food. I practically live at Stori's and believe you me she's less than pleased. I'll convert half the Potions lab into a work space. I'll tell Potter he has to come here. I'd rather spend my time working on that salve of yours quite honestly."

"You've always been adept at Potions. Perhaps you should take Lucius up on his offer. Malfoy Enterprises hasn't really branched into Potions per say, though they do have the best apothecary selections. You might like it."

"I'd love it actually, but I didn't know how you would feel about me working with my father."

"After watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy with Lucius, numerous times mind you, I think it's fine."

"He wants a telly now. He keeps asking me which one is the biggest and best and if they can be run with magic because he can't imagine getting electricky in the Manor. Yes, I'm aware it's electricity, but I can't correct him. It's too bloody amusing."

Draco grabbed Hermione around the waist, unable to resist her any longer. It didn't take but a moment for her to wind up on the kitchen table devoid of clothing. When she commented on the ridiculous amount of flour beneath her, he simply laughed, thrusting into her until it no longer mattered.

* * *

"Kingsley Shacklebolt can go fuck himself. I don't care if he _is_ the Minister for Magic." Against her better judgement, Hermione had invited Ginny, Luna, Astoria and even Pansy to Forest Lake for a girl's afternoon.

Ginny Weasley hadn't wasted any time before declaring them ready to drink and cracking open a bottle of wine. One bottle became two and before they knew it, the girls were spread on the floor of the loft surrounded by fresh baked goods and empty wine bottles.

"Ginny, if you don't tell us your match, I'll command Dink to bar you from the wine."

"Goyle. Can you bloody believe it? Gregory Goyle." Astoria and Pansy dissolved into a fit of giggles, practically rolling on the carpet in a most unbecoming fashion.

Personally, Hermione thought it served Ginny right. Not that she disliked the youngest Weasley but perhaps seeing how much Gregory Goyle had changed would open her eyes to the possibilities. She'd never voice such a thing aloud for fear of a particularly heinous Bat-Bogey-Hex. Hermione also supposed she still harboured the slightly smidgen of animosity toward Ginny for having slept with Draco, regardless of how long ago it happened to be.

"I've got Longbottom. Merlin I hope he's not a complete bumbling idiot any longer. He was quite good looking sixth year. Yum." Pansy chewed the ends of her dark hair, picturing Neville naked no doubt.

"Neville's really quite sweet, Pansy. I'm sure he's disheartened about this Marriage Law considering he was engaged to Theo's match."

"Oh that's awful. Now I feel terrible. I need a firewhisky. Oi. Hermione, there's someone beyond your wards. She looks terribly angry." Pansy snickered, gazing out the picture window which overlooked the back garden.

"Stori, that's your bloody sister. You deal with her." Hermione growled.

"It's your house." Stori nursed her glass of wine, her lip curling in distaste.

Begrudgingly, Hermione traipsed out to the back garden to confront the unwanted guest. She had to admit, Daphne was a strikingly beautiful girl. She was tall and exceedingly thin where Astoria was short and curvy. Her chestnut waves rippled down her back as she adjusted the décolletage of her green dress. It was obvious from the narrowing of her eyes; she had expected to see Draco.

"Why are you here Mudblood?" Daphne hissed, her top lip twitching.

"Hello, Daphne, I'd say it's wonderful to see you, but I wouldn't want to lie. What can I help you with then?" Hermione crossed her arms, tapping her soft grey boots on the sodden grass.

"I'm looking for Draco, obviously. We had a wonderful passion filled weekend in Italy and I simply wished to share the news in person." Daphne's dazzling smile might have intimidated any other witch, but Hermione wasn't biting.

"Interesting. My husband told me all about your unfortunate meeting in Rome. In fact, I helped him incinerate the clothing he was wearing when you accosted him. Whatever bullshit you're selling, no one here is buying."

"You filthy slag. He'd never marry a Mudblood like you. Lucius wouldn't allow it! Wait until he finds out you've been pretending to be a Malfoy while _I_ carry the Malfoy heir." Daphne arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow in triumph.

"You silly witch. We've been married since the New Year with a fidelity clause no less. I'll be sure to inform Draco of your unwelcome visit. I'm sure Lucius will be quite interested as well. Oh wait, stay for a moment why don't you? I do believe they're here." Hermione turned, sensing the change in the wards while waving at her husband and father-in-law who were hurrying across the lawn with their wands out.  
Draco immediately embraced his wife, kissing her soundly.

"Are you alright? There was a gaggle of intoxicated women shouting through the Floo about Daphne and how you hadn't come back. I was worried. Father insisted we come immediately. Why is she here?"

Daphne Greengrass discovered herself on the wrong end of Lucius Malfoy's wand. She stood stock still as it pressed into her throat, directly beneath her jaw, barely drawing a breath.

"She wished to tell me all about her imaginary love fest with you in Italy and the imaginary Malfoy heir she's carrying."

"Draco, tell the little Mudblood to go. There's no need to pretend to care for her. I know it hurt you terribly when I left, but I'm back now and we can simply pick up where we left off." She winced as the wand twisted into her skin, bruising it.

"Ms. Greengrass, as pleasant as your sister is, you are not. You've insulted my daughter-in-law. You've insulted my son and by all rights you've insulted me. My son has not looked in your direction since the unfortunate time he allowed his cock to make his decisions. At least he had the decency not to repeat such an error in judgement. You are to leave here immediately. If I hear even a whisper of gossip about my family leave your lips, I will rip them from your face personally. Am I making myself clear?" Daphne nodded with difficulty, considering the wand placement.

There were tears in her eyes, yet they didn't fool anyone as the venom was oozing off her in waves. Daphne sauntered to a respectable distance and Disapparated without a backward glance.

"Come along, Ms Granger, I believe you owe me some chocolate biscuits."

"It's Malfoy, Lucius. Until you can learn my name, you can make your own bloody biscuits." Hermione clutched Draco's hand, practically dragging him back to the house. Mentally she counted to ten waiting for Lucius to come chasing after her.

"Wait. Hermione!"

"Father must really love those biscuits."

* * *

The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months until finally it was only a few days before Victory Day. Harry Potter was quite irritable, considering he was no closer to a suspect in what he continued to call the Rune-a-mator case. Minister Kingsley Shacklebolt was breathing down this throat constantly and as good as the new Auror was, Harry had half a notion to poison his coffee if Nick asked another question about the war.

Harry tossed another piece of crinkled parchment into the rubbish bin and groaned. He missed Draco. There weren't enough galleons in the world for him to admit it aloud, yet it was true. He hated having to explain things. He hated having to finish his thoughts as well. As much as he was remiss to admit it, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had a sort of shorthand which lent themselves to being the perfect partners.

"I hate this case." Harry watched his Golden Messenger Snitch zip out of his office. He hadn't meant to send it, but it was done now. Perhaps it would entice Draco to make a quick stop at the Ministry.

"C'mon Harry. It's a great case really. I don't know why the Minister requested me, but I'm having a ball. I prolly shouldn't say things like that though eh?" Nick Moretti sauntered into Harry's office, without knocking, as if he belonged there.

Harry grit his teeth, refusing to allow the American Auror to get under his skin. It's not that he disliked Nick. He didn't. Nick was a fantastic Auror with good instincts. It wasn't even that Nick was American. Personally, Harry thought Nick spent a little too much time working on his body than their cases, but who was he to judge? He supposed Nick was an alright looking bloke, not that he spent much time considering it or anything.

Nick wasn't as tall as the towering Draco Malfoy but he was taller than Harry. His close cropped light brown hair, reminded Harry of the blokes in the militia films Draco subjected him too. His eyes were a light brown and he constantly looked as if he needed a shave. Nick was a bulky bloke and Harry knew better than to engage in a physical altercation with the man.

"Moretti, it's not a bloody great case. My mate's brother was almost a victim. I personally knew every single victim. Perhaps you'd feel a bit differently if you discovered it was Nick Moretti carved onto another human being instead of a thinly veiled Harry Potter."

"A'right then. Hey. Do ya know a good place to eat? I mean like, my mama makes the best pasta I've ever had. Lasagna that would make you cry. Stuffed manigot.."

"Stuffed what now?" Nick rolled his eyes and sighed. It's not that he had anything against the British wizards he was suddenly surrounded with but at the same time, he missed home.

"Stuffed...man-i-cot-ti. It's a kinda pasta Harry. It's got a buncha cheeses and sauce and whatnot ok?" Harry was still adjusting to his new partner, trying to understand the nuances of his accent but food he could understand.

He heard the rapid flutter of the Golden Messenger Snitch's wings before he saw it. His fingers were already twitching, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to predict where it would land. It zoomed around the corner, over Nick's head and into Harry's waiting hand.

"That's awesome." Nick chuckled, nodding continuously.

"Come along then. We're going to Malfoy's."

"Ugh, that guy." Nick didn't say more than that, knowing he was already on thin ice. He didn't know what he'd done to offend Harry Potter but the wizard was famous. It was best to stay on his good side.

* * *

Fleur Weasley puttered around Shell Cottage, watching her young daughter play in the garden. She couldn't wait for Bill to return. He'd only been gone a few days, but she loved him so. She always felt better when he was home. Fleur reckoned Victoire did as well. She looked out the small window over the sink basin yet she didn't see her daughter.

"Victoire!" Fleur called from the back door, her yellow dress blowing in the breeze. She tied her blonde hair with a scrap of cloth as she wandered around the garden.

"Maman!" Victoire screeched, struggling in the grip of a tall witch Fleur didn't recognise.

She pulled her wand from the front pocket of her yellow dress, instantly on alert. Victoire continued to struggle, finally stomping the foot of her captor. Fleur tripped in the tall grasses, scraping her knees yet it didn't matter. Nothing mattered as long as Victoire was safe. Fleur shoved her daughter behind her, wand brandished.

"Hello, Fleur. It's been a long time."

"Oo are yoo?"

"You don't remember me? That hurts my feelings, Fleur. Send the little one away now. Wouldn't want her to get caught in the cross-fire now would we?"

"Victoire," Fleur hisssed, never taking her eyes off the offending witch, "Go to zee houz. Eef I am not back, take ze Floo. Go to Nee." Fleur gave Victoire a shove as she flexed her knees, prepared to duel.

* * *

Lucius ignored the amorous sounds drifting into the telly room. Draco had attempted to explain to his father it was a loft, a future play area for his nonexistent children. As always, it fell on deaf ears. According to Lucius Malfoy, since it was the place where he enjoyed the telly, he'd refer to it as the telly room if he wished.

He assumed his son had forgotten his father was in residence when he accosted his wife. It wasn't the first time Lucius had overheard their lovemaking and he doubted it would be the last. He knew he should cast a Silencing Charm however, he truly believed it altered the picture quality on the telly and he was bound and determined to enjoy his new addiction.

"I'm never eating at your house again, Malfoy."

"Don't lie, Potter. You know you'd wither away and die if you had to rely on Stori." Lucius snickered.

Of course he knew better than to venture into the kitchen when Hermione was baking. He didn't understand his son's animalistic need to ravish his wife on the dining table while covered in flour, but to each their own. He propped his feet on the coffee table, balancing the bowl of buttered popcorn on his lap and raised the volume on the telly. He had no interest in engaging Harry Potter when there was bloodshed before him.

"You said come over. I didn't think you'd be shagging my best mate on the bloody table, Malfoy. That's completely unsanitary." Harry pulled the ends of his hair, causing it to stick up.

"We're wizards." Draco shrugged over his shoulder while buttoning his wife into his dress shirt.

"Are you going to the Ministry...function?" By unspoken agreement, Harry and Draco never referred to the Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts as Victory Day. With the number of losses suffered by both sides and the rebuilding of the wizarding world in general, they didn't feel very victorious.

"Oh Potter, Voldy Day can suck it." Hermione, still blushing furiously, slapped her husband's unclad chest.

"You've been watching the telly with your father again."

"So?" Draco held Hermione by the lapel of his shirt, kissing her soundly.

"No. Stop it. I don't want to see this." Harry eyed the clouds of flour still swirling in the kitchen air and the obvious body prints of flour on the table before he hopped onto the counter.

"Nowhere's safe, Potter. We shagged there yesterday." Draco wiggled his eyebrows, even as Harry turned the lightest shade of green.

"Nick is homesick."

"So you've come to beg my wife to cook for you. I wouldn't mind it so much if he'd learn to stop ogling my wife. I'm aware she's an incredibly beautiful woman, but if I see you looking anywhere but her face again, I'm going to.."

"A'right. A'right. I get it. Geez. Some people are so touchy eh? Anyways, I was wonderin' if any of youse guys knew a witch dat goes by the name of Daphne." They groaned collectively.

"Harry says you're homesick? I'm assuming there's some sort of dish you'd prefer?" Nick carefully met Hermione's brown eyes and nodded, noticing they hadn't answered his question.

"You don't want to know a thing about Daphne. Trust me, it's better that way." Harry rubbed his scar, looking skyward and wondering how Draco and Hermione managed to get flour on their ceiling.

"My moms makes a mean lasagna." Nick sighed with longing.

Hermione smiled, flicking her wand. Harry had a devil of a time ducking as pots and pans flew to the stove and vegetables began chopping themselves.

"I haven't heard such good things 'bout her, but the Minister gave me a missive. Youse guys have a Marriage Law, which is fucked up, doan even get me stawted. Dude, I'm sposed to marry this Daphne chick. She gets different rules though. Iunno what she did, but she can't have a wand for like the first two years.."

"Well, that's what you get when you piss off the Minister...and his friends." Hermione sniffed with disdain even as Draco's eyes narrowed with a sneaking suspicion.

"Nee, what did you do?"

"Nothing!" It was obvious she was lying by the plump lip caught between her teeth and the flitting of her eyes, but no one was going to force it out of her.

"How'd your knickers wind up there?" Harry cocked his head to the side in wonder. A green pair of lacy knickers dangled precariously from the corner of an upper cupboard, taunting them.

Neither Hermione nor Draco had the opportunity to answer such a question. Green flames roared in the living area Floo, causing Hermione and Draco to glance at one another before hurrying from the room. Draco had adjusted the wards, allowing only immediate family to use that particular Floo, unless it was an emergency.

"Auntie NeeNee! Auntie NeeNee!" Victoire Weasley fell from the Floo, crashing onto hard tile. Her chubby four year old face was streaked with dirt and tears as she sobbed. Victoire ran into Hermione's outstretched arms, practically choking her.

"What's wrong?"

"Maman sent me! Bad lady, NeeNee, bad." Hermione felt as if there were ice in her veins. She ignored the murmurings, the Patronuses whisking past her head and focused on the little girl in her arms.

"What bad lady? Where's your dad? Why didn't your mummy come with you?"

"I playing. Maman said stay close and I did. Daddy's way. Bad lady come and gwab me and I yell for Maman and I stompied her foot and ranned aways. Maman said go inside, wait. Maman no come, NeeNee. Maman said if she no come go NeeNee so I camed." A fresh batch of tears escaped Victoire's eyes as she dissolved into sobs once more.

"Victoire, what did the bad lady look like?"

"Big with Maman hair." Draco and Harry exchanged a look, moving in synchronisation as they threw on their cloaks. Nick watched their movements and knew it would take him years to have the same shorthand with his new partner.

"Nick, send a Patronus to the Minister. Malfoy..."

"Already sent. Father!"

"Your father's here?"

"No Potter, I'm simply screaming father for the fun of it."

"Draco, you're interrupting my program. It's most unbecoming...oh dear."

"I've got to go. Please keep an eye on Hermione and Victoire. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Malfoy. You promised!" Hermione struggled to her feet, awkwardly patting an inconsolable Victoire.

Harry shuffled his feet uncomfortably, antsy to go. He didn't have a plan, not really, but it didn't matter. Fleur Weasley sent her daughter to Hermione Granger. Something was terribly wrong. He didn't have time to wait for Malfoy and Hermione to wrangle through their differences.

"Potter, take Moretti. You'll have to Side-Along. The Minister and Bill should be there momentarily. I've sent for your team as well. I'll be along shortly." Harry's tension dissipated slightly.

As much as he was remiss to admit it, part of him was always slightly grateful when someone else took the helm. He supposed it came from having Hermione make the demands during the war. He hadn't always agreed with her, but he'd learned to listen. Harry nodded curtly, gripped Nick's shoulder and Disapparated.

"Nee," Draco implored Hermione to understand, stepping toward her slowly even as she shook her head violently, backing away from him.

"I can't. You promised. You promised." Hermione sunk into the maroon armchair against the furthest wall, rocking Victoire.

"I can't be that...I can't be the man that sits here while that little girl's mother.."

"I know." Hermione hid her face in Victoire's blonde hair. Draco perched himself on the arm of the chair, his hand lost in Hermione's curls.

"I'll wait. Potter will send a Patronus or Bill will come racing up from the Traveling Room and we'll know the danger has passed." He ruffled Victoire's hair, expecting the glare she shot at him over Hermione's shoulder.

"You'd do that for me?" Hermione's voice was small and almost child-like. It took every ounce of his self control to keep from gathering her into her arms.

"Baby, I'd do anything for you." He smirked at the tell tale sounds of frantic feet clamoring up the staircase.

"Victoire!" Bill burst through the door in the corridor, sliding around the corner. He slowed seeing his daughter wrapped around Hermione, his chest heaving, his face feral. Though, whether it was from fear for his daughter or the scars marring his cheek was anyone's guess.

"Papá!" The blonde toddler wriggled out of Hermione's lap and ran to her father, finding herself instantly scooped into his arms.

Relations between the Weasley's and Hermione had been strained since her accident. It wasn't that she hadn't forgiven Bill, she had. She knew it had been an accident. Bill would never intentionally cause her harm. Hermione simply didn't wish to remember the aftermath. She wanted to heal and felt she couldn't with the constant reminder of Bill's remorse.

"Thank you." It was Bill's hoarseness that broke her out of her reverie. She took in the fear and tears in his eyes, the gentle shudder of his shoulders and nodded slowly with a small smile.

"What happened?" Draco nudged Hermione's shoulder until she moved aside, allowing him to settle beside her.

"I-I don't even know. Harry wouldn't tell me anything. Fleur is being transported to St Mungos. She's alive, that's something. Harry said he'll send a Patronus if he needs you, Malfoy. I-I don't..I mean how.."

"Bill, sit down." He found his knees instantly bending until he was sitting on the butter cream sofa as Victoire fell asleep in his arms.

Hermione brushed off Draco's hand from her knee, standing suddenly with a gentle sway. Bill frowned, yet remained silent even as she called for their house elf to bring them a spot of tea. He wasn't the slightest bit hungry. He was terrified quite honestly. Why would anyone target Fleur? She's never harmed anyone.

"Malfoy, go to St Mungos. I'm sure Bill would appreciate an update and he's quite reluctant to leave his daughter. Don't look at me like that. We'll be perfectly fine. I'll have Stori come by with James and Teddy. Perhaps the ruckus of small children will convince your father to go home."

"I heard that!" Even Bill managed a half smile at the elegant lilt wafting down from the loft.

* * *

A few hours later, Forest Lake was filled with witches and wizards scurrying about amid whispers, while Hermione remained in the maroon armchair with vacant eyes. She mumbled to herself, toying with her fingers even as Teddy and Victoire screeched at unholy volumes. She didn't know what had come over her, not really. She had been bustling about, preparing sleeping quarters, setting out various snacks and libation, when she stopped.

Hermione had held a tea towel in her hands, staring blankly at the marble still smattered with flour, when everything had stopped. Her multi-tasking mind had shut down. It was silent on the interior and it took so much effort simply just to blink. She had felt herself being lead to the chair, her knees bending, and a glimpse of blonde hair swinging, as she fought to catch her breath.

From the snippets of muted conversation she'd been able to process; she knew Fleur had been attacked. She wasn't conscious yet, though Bill was hopeful. Harry and his team were still scouring Shell Cottage for clues, though Hermione imagined he was furious. Lucius had left in a flurry of black robes snarling about the interruption of his programs. Draco hadn't returned yet, which really was the start of her end.

It wasn't the fact Fleur had a lovely expanse of runes carved into her back. It wasn't the fact there were seven victims and no one knew when it was going to end or even who was doing such things. It wasn't that she, Hermione Granger had married Draco Malfoy, of all the people in the world to marry, or even that she loved him with a quiet desperation she hadn't known was possible. It wasn't a lot of things one would expect it to be.

"She's been under so much strain..."

"Especially after that horrid accident..."

"She won't even discuss the loss of the baby..."

"Draco wants to try again.."

"Knowing Hermione she wants to wait until this terrible case is finished."

"Fleur's pregnant."

It was those few simple words, as Bill Weasley sat at the very table her husband had shagged her on that very morning, which tipped her world on its axis. They sucked her Gryffindor courage straight from her very soul, her chest tightening and her mind shutting down.

Hermione blinked rapidly, willing away the rapidly flashing pictures behind her closed eyelids. Troll in the girl's lavatory, being petrified by the basilisk, time turning her way through third year, the TriWizard Championship, Battle of the Ministry, Dumbledore's secrets, horcruxes, Snatchers, writhing on the floor of Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix, sweet Merlin Bellatrix, which is when her screaming began.

It seemed so silly in retrospect. Harry hadn't dealt with his demons anymore than she had and yet he wasn't screaming with his eyes wide open. He channeled his energies into capturing the remaining Death Eaters and working himself to the bone to keep wizarding kind safe.

Ron had buried himself in a vat of spirits and he hadn't faced half of what she had. He had run, allowing his insecurities to play him like a finely tuned fiddle. The only thing Ron had ever done well was play a smashingly good game of chess.

She knew Malfoy hadn't been sleeping as of late. She'd awoken many a night to find herself alone and his side of the bed covered in a sheen of sweat. She couldn't imagine being forced to reside with the Darkest Wizard of all time. Hermione could feel her hands twitching, her throat raw, while wondering how on earth Draco Malfoy had ever learned to love. Berating herself for not having the strength of others.

"Should we Silence her?" Molly Weasley plucked Astoria's green sleeve with worry.

"No, Draco hates it when we do that." Astoria was thankful Ginny had thought to throw a Silencing Charm around the nursery upstairs while the children slept.

Molly tossed her hands in the air with frustration, shaking her head.

"What do you suggest then? Suffer with it?"

"You know Molly, you're not half as lovely as you'd like to pretend you are. She's been through bloody hell, if she wants to scream like a banshee in the sanctity of her own home, than she can do it all she likes. If it's so incredibly offensive to you, get out."

"You can't talk to me like that!" Molly huffed, puffing her large chest.

"Actually, I can. You're an enabler Molly. Learned that nifty word from Hermione's self-help books. You coddled Ginny since she's your only girl and then you feign disappointment when she's exactly who you raised. She's you Molly. If you don't like her, take a bloody look in the mirror. Ron is a pompous git because you've fed his insanity. He's a coward with a temper, which quite frankly is dangerous. I'm sure it was your idea that he attempt to win back Hermione too..."

"If she had given him another chance, they could have been happy!"

"Molly. You're deluded. Hermione Granger is brilliant and broken. Merlin forgive me, but in what world would she _ever_ marry the man who deserted her and Harry in the middle of a horcrux hunt? The man who ignored her existence until it was convenient for him. Draco makes her happy."

"Yes, well, she looks ever the part right now doesn't she then?"

"Mum, you need to leave." Bill had managed to clear the haze from his worry and studied the arrogant toss of his mother's head. "Stori's quite right. It's Hermione's home. If she wishes to scream in it, then what do you care? Are you really still set on Hermione and Ron? Dammit mum, we all knew ages ago it'd never happen. Ron's an idiot. You need to come to terms with it. Charlie relocated all the way to Romania to get away from your overbearing ways. Fred died and you're still harping on us all. Let it go, mum. We love you, but we don't like you. Go home." Molly sputtered, yet stomped her way to the front door, pushing passed a very confused Harry and an anxious Draco.

"I hope you're happy with yourselves!" Harry and Draco ignored Molly's departing declarations to follow the sound of the muffled screams.

"Tell me you didn't Silence her." Draco sighed, sagging against the nearest wall.

"I Silenced the room. She can hear herself, but the children are sleeping upstairs and I sort of got into it with Molly so.."

"Dammit, Stori." Harry yanked his hair while clenching his teeth.

"I'm not sorry. I'm going to check on James. The two of you need to suss things out with Hermione." Astoria flounced from the room, green swirled skirt flowing out behind her.

Draco gave Harry a bit of a shove causing the Auror to stumble. If the situation with Hermione hadn't been so dire, Draco would have snickered and made some sort of scathing remark, but as it was, his primary concern was his wife. He had noticed the subtle change yet chalked it up to the accident. In retrospect, he realised, it was more than that. While they had known each other for most of their lives, they each had buried their darkest secrets. Perhaps it was time to unearth them for no other reason than it was time to trust each other and heal.

Hermione had quieted significantly, yet it was obvious she was having difficulty reigning in her madness. Her fists were clenched so tightly, Draco was sure her palms were riddled with half moons. Her jaw was clenched and her breaths hissed into the air. Her forehead was matted with damp curls and her cheeks were Weasley red.

Draco scooped her into her arms, adjusting her slightly until her head fell against his chest. He felt a coldness seep into his veins as he carried her. Hermione was making a conscious effort not to touch him, if he wasn't mistaken. She grasped her hands together in her lap, inhaling deeply at the base of his throat. He could feel her lips moving, yet he wasn't capable of discerning her words.

"You're going to leave me now." Were the first words he heard after he set her on their bed. He warded their door in order to keep a particularly nosy Potter from interrupting them.

"Granger, stop." She curled into a ball on her side, facing the wall. He couldn't see her face for all her hair, yet he sat beside her, his hand hovering over her bare arm.

"I don't want you too, but you will. I expect it." Draco had to press himself closer to hear her soft whispers. "I'm all damaged. You'll leave and I'll be all alone. It's too much. I can't. I don't want too. It's too hard."

"Baby, I don't understand."

"You're Malfoy. You can't love me if I'm broken. You'll leave and.."

"Stop. Look at me." Hermione snuggled deeper into her pillow, shaking her head violently, even as Draco wrestled with her. Being the larger and stronger of the two, it didn't take much for him to have her pinned on her back. He looked at her damp curls spread across her pillow, her red-rimmed caramel eyes, her pink nose and wondered how it was possible she didn't see her own beauty.

"I don't know where you got this horrid idea, but I'm not leaving you, Granger." He held her wrists over her head, but loosened his hold the more she struggled against him. Finally he sighed and settled himself half on top of her. He nestled his thigh between hers and rested his head on her chest.

"Harry and Ron hated me, did you know that?" Hermione sniffed, her voice still ridiculously low but at least her fingers were raking through his hair. He could tolerate anything as long as she never stopped.

"I met them on the Hogwarts Express first year and they hated me. They were only my friends because they felt sorry for me. Harry more than Ron. I was always the third wheel. It didn't bother me because I didn't have anyone else; with them I was never alone. No one's ever really liked me. Not even my parents, isn't that funny?" Draco didn't think it was particularly funny, but he wasn't going to interrupt her now that she was finally speaking.

"I kept thinking, if I studied hard and I did well, my parents would finally be proud of me. That's why I connected with Harry. He didn't have parents and well, my parents didn't want me. We were both neglected, in different ways of course. And now the war is over and my job is done. I helped Harry Potter survive. Or at least I helped him get to the final battle. That's something I suppose. I've been running on empty for so long, I can't remember what it's like not to be running and hiding and terrified."

"Granger, the war's been over for years now."

"Yes, I know, but I feel like I'm still fighting it. I don't know how to...I mean; most people think that Bellatrix Lestrange torturing me was the worst part of the war. It was, in that moment, but the worst part is when the war is over, but your mind won't stop playing it on the insides of your eyelids so fast and so furious that you forget how to breathe. I buried myself in my job and I bloody hated my job. I'm all broken. I lost my job. I lost my child. I'll lose you too. You shouldn't quit your job for me. You're really good at it."

"Love, I think when you're having these moments, you should talk about them. Not necessarily to me, though I wouldn't mind. I'd never mind. I'm sure Potter would understand and as much I detest him, I suppose the Weasel would as well."

"Y-you..you really do love me, don't you?" Hermione's breath caught in her sore throat, her fingers still tangled in Draco's silken locks.

"When are you going to believe me? I'm not leaving you. I'm not letting you leave me. I love you." Draco sighed in frustration, biting the side of his cheek to keep his temper in check.

"I'm trying."

* * *

Draco slowly made his way down the stairs after rocking Hermione to sleep. He wasn't in the mood to deal with a houseful of guests, yet he didn't have the heart to send them away either. He scratched the stubble on his chin, listening to the pair of four year olds play in the nursery. He hadn't set foot in it since learning Hermione was pregnant and suddenly not pregnant in the same evening. Draco knew his mother had decorated the room out of a hopefulness which came with age and as he heard the children's whispers, he wished they were his children.

"I can settle them downstairs." Draco hadn't realised his forehead rested against the doorjamb when Astoria sidled up beside him.

"It's fine."

"Liar." Astoria Potter sighed lightly, slipping her arm around his waist. She was surprised when he didn't reciprocate the action, instead shrugging her off. "How is she?"

"Why are you here?" Draco pushed passed Astoria's small frame, ignoring the flash of hurt in her bright blue eyes.

"Draco, you're family and she's my husband's best mate and.."

"Exactly. It's obvious you're jealous. You never call her your friend. She's always my wife and Potter's best mate but never _your_ friend. I'm not an idiot. You think I don't see the way you look at her?" Draco had half a mind to lock himself in one of the bedrooms down the hall.

"I tried." Astoria fingered the exposed skin at his wrist before Draco wrenched away once more.

"I don't want you here."

"You don't mean that. You never mean that. I tried. I meant it then and I mean it now. I tried to like her. I tried to befriend her. I tried to be happy for you. Obviously I haven't done a very good job, but it doesn't change the fact that I tried."

"You were supposed to be my mate. One of my best mates. You were supposed to support me in my decisions. Dammit Stori, I encouraged you to pursue Potter."

"I only did it to make you jealous!"

"I don't want to hear this. I don't care. We were children then. I know you, Stori. If you didn't love Potter you wouldn't have married him. You wouldn't be so bloody furious when he channels his inner Weasley. You wouldn't.."

"Stop. Stop it." Draco stared down into the garden, a light mist of rain dripping from the green leaves below him.

Part of him had always known Astoria had harboured some sort of feelings for him, but he brushed them aside as he often did for anything which was of no consequence to him. Quite honestly he thought she was passed them long before he married Hermione.

"You love her. He loves her. Ron loves her. She's always bloody winning and I just..."

"Stori..it's not like that."

"It's always been her, hasn't it? For you I mean. Even before, when your parents were pushing, during the war. You knew, didn't you? You knew I fancied you a fair bit. You never saw me that way did you?"

Hermione eased open the adjoining door to the nursery, slipping inside. She regretted leaving her bed, but Draco had left and she found sleep was impossible without him beside her. She hadn't meant to eavesdrop on his conversation, yet she couldn't step away.

Hermione supposed she'd always suspected Astoria had fancied Draco. It was in the way her eyes were alight when he deigned to gaze upon her. She ignored it more for Harry's sake than anything else. How could Astoria do that to Harry?

"Stori, you know you're important to me. I'd trust you with my life. I know you love Potter. You don't love me, not in the way you think you do. You're still hung up on childish imaginings." Hermione imagined Draco's tall frame leaning against the large window of the loft, avoiding Astoria's pleading eyes.

"Just tell me. I need to know. I can let it go if you just tell me. It's not as if Harry doesn't know. Of course he knows. I was honest with him and Merlin love him, he loves me anyway. You're right. I love him, I do. I've always had trouble letting go. You remember how horrid I was after the war. I was one of the few remaining, still clinging to those ridiculous ideals. As your best mate, I'm begging you, was there ever a chance?" Astoria wrapped her arms around herself, her jaw set, determined not to cry.

"No, Stori. You were right. It was her. It was always her. Even if she never returned my affections. It was never going to be anyone else, and it was never going to be you." Draco expected Astoria to, well he wasn't sure exactly, but he assumed there would be sobbing and tears, instead of the tremulous smile.

"Thank you."

* * *

Hermione cradled baby James after she changed his nappy. She could easily see herself doing the same with her son or daughter, even as Teddy and Victoire argued over the building blocks spread across the floor. James fussed a bit, which was expected. He was quite a hungry baby, but for all his rooting, Hermione wasn't the witch whom could aid his endeavors.

"Hermione, I-I wasn't aware you were awake. Draco said.."

"I want you to go." Hermione didn't turn around, still patting James bottom. She imagined a feigned confusion on the aristocratic features of her best mate's wife.

"I-I'm sorry. Really I am..I."

"You're not sorry, not really. You're sorry you were caught by the one person you didn't wish to know of your affections. I want you to go." Hermione could hear the sniffling behind her yet she didn't feel regret.

"I love Harry, you know I do, Hermione."

"I know. He's easy to love." Hermione finally turned, taking in the small frame, the wringing of Astoria's hands, the tears held fast in her eyes and sighed. "I never understood why we weren't close. Harry and I have talked of it at length. I understand now. You might love Harry, but you love my husband as well. Don't get me wrong, I'm not insecure. Not where you're concerned at least. I simply have enough going on in my life right now without thinking of my best friend's wife harboring feelings for my husband. I'd like you to go. I don't wish to see you. Not now. Tell Harry to feel free to bring James by whenever he likes." Hermione carefully placed James in Astoria's arms.

Astoria Potter's small frame shook as she held her son which conveniently enough rocked her son back to sleep. She didn't see fiery rage or even hurt in Hermione's eyes. It was a quiet sort of acceptance, which frightened her, really.

"I don't see why you're crying, Astoria. It's not as if we were ever really friends."


	15. VII

**AN: Welcome to yet another serial killer chapter. whoot.**

**k so...this chapter is relatively short in comparison to the others...but the end of this chapter tickled me pink.**

**i'm wrestling with a bit of writers block so...bear with me. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 15 - VII

* * *

I swear, if I have to listen to Pansy Parkinson fawn over Neville Longbottom for one more moment, I'm going to bloody Avada her arse in the street. Of course it would wreck all my well laid plans, but at this point I was willing to risk it.

Pansy's not a horrid person, not really, well not once you get to know her, but Merlin does she love to talk. I don't know what the Ministry was thinking, sticking me with her. We don't even work in the same department, but apparently we're part of this elite 'team' or some such nonsense.

It makes things easier for me, quite honestly. I had an even dozen on my list, ending with Harry Potter of course. He'd never see it coming, hopefully. I mean, I know I've fucked up. I should have killed Charlie Weasley when I had the chance. I let that delightful bastard slip right through my fingers.

Sometimes I found myself chanting their names under my breath, but Pansy never thought anything of it. She thought I was just super dedicated to the case.

_*Edgecombe. Corner. Wood. Krum. Bagman. Weasley.*_

"You're not even listening to me are you? Ugh, I can't believe Potter sent us back here. I thought all the evidence had already been gathered. We've already talked to the students that remained behind. What else does he bloody expect of us?" Maybe he sent us here so he wouldn't have to listen to you. I mean, I didn't say that of course, but fuck.

"I'm sure Harry just wants us to be thorough. It's a bit hard on him, especially since we haven't the whisper of a suspect." You have no idea how difficult it is to keep this calm façade when all you want to do is punch someone.

"Who did you get matched with anyway?"

Physical violence is a Muggle means to an end, but it does have its appeal. Pansy paid no mind, kicking some pebbles on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It would be so easy to Stupefy her before slicing her to bits, if only to stop her prattling. She's not part of my master plan though, so as difficult as it was, I resisted the urge. Though, if I took a moment to think about it, I bet even Neville would be thanking me profusely.

"I'm married, Pansy. I've told you that before." I had zero intention of discussing John with Pansy 'I'm a slag' Parkinson.

"Oh, right. Sorry. Neville and Hannah were planning on living in Hogsmeade. That's obviously not going to happen now. I feel terrible for him, I do. He's been making an effort with me though. He took me to dinner in Diagon Alley and he's quite the conversationalist. You wouldn't expect it, not really but Neville's quite amusing..."

"Shut it." I hadn't meant to growl at her. There's only so much a person can take. It's not like she noticed or anything. Pansy paused, her wand gripped firmly between her manicured nails, her dark hair swinging as she checked behind us.

"Do you hear something? Oh, it's just Theo."

"Hello ladies." Theo wasn't bad for a Slytherin. He had this sort of swagger in his step that was a bit sexy. He knew it of course, which ruined the entire effect.

"Why are you here Nott?" Pansy rolled her eyes and I have expected her to toss her long black hair over her shoulder, but she didn't.

"Potter demands you have a chat with the dragon Weasley." It took every ounce of my self control not to flinch. Instead, I inspected the footprints on the ground.

"Thank Merlin." It wasn't long before Pansy and Theo forgot about my very existence. I trailed them for a bit, only until we reached the road to Hogsmeade.

It was easy for them to forget about me, let's face it, as myself, I'm quite forgettable. I slipped away the moment they stepped foot into the Three Broomsticks. I figured I had a few hours before Harry wondered where I went off too, which if I hurried gave me plenty of time.

* * *

It wasn't long before I was standing in my modest room at the Leaky Cauldron as Susannah once again. It was risky. I knew that, but I didn't have much of a choice. I was playing with fire, but I had been from the moment I snatched my first victim. The allure of being captured was quite enticing as well. Ridiculous as it was, I was dying for one last shag as Susannah.

I was definitely going to have to retire her. It wouldn't take much to hunt down the Muggle. She wasn't anyone stellar in the land of Muggles. I suppose there were plenty of tall hot blonde's looking for a good time, but it was different in the Wizarding world. Susannah stood out here, quite blatantly and since I had stupidly allowed that hot piece of ass Charlie Weasley to live they were going to be looking for me.

I had heard a whisper of a rumor about my next victim and if it was true, she'd wind up the way of Charlie Weasley. It was regretful to say the least. I was really looking forward to another slice and dice. I realise that sounds quite sadistic and perhaps it is, but my conscience has been on holiday since the day John and Henry died. I suppose there's a slim possibility it will return, but I'm not expecting it anytime soon.

I had a difficult time finding my way to Shell Cottage. I'd never actually been there before, yet I'd heard of it plenty. In all actuality, it wasn't that far from a little village John have brought me to once. How convenient. He had been such a thoughtful man, always searching for what he called 'the perfect silence'. I didn't understand it then as much as I tried and I doubted I would ever understand it without him to guide me. Merlin, I missed him.

It took me much longer than it should have to traipse through the bloody sand dunes to get there. It really was a gorgeous spot. The ocean air was delectable and the tall grasses blowing in the breeze almost calmed my bubbling rage. Almost.

I spotted the little blonde girl first. She couldn't have been more than four or five. Adorable little girl, she reminded me of...well no, that wasn't exactly true. It was the age more than anything. My little one didn't have shimmering blonde hair, he looked like me. He had the thickest blackest hair yet the brightest eyes. He inherited those from his father, but no, I didn't have time to reminisce about John and my little Henry. They were dead, thanks to Harry Potter. If he had been better, faster, smarter…

I couldn't stop myself from smiling and waving at the little girl in her pink dress. She was waving around a toy wand, spinning in circles when she spotted me. I could see the hesitation in her eyes. She looked between Shell Cottage and me a few times before deciding to come toward me.

"Allo. My Maman is inside." The little girl smiled and my heart almost broke. She didn't have Henry's dimples or the innocence which stems from being a toddler. She was wary yet inquisitive which made her that much more adorable.

"Your mummy allows you to play alone?" The idea of a young child unsupervised was absolutely deplorable to me. I knew it stemmed from my losses, but I couldn't help it and I didn't want too.

"Yes. If I stay close." She was almost within snatching distance. I had no intention of hurting the girl. I simply wished to lure her mother outside. I didn't trust the wards of Shell Cottage. Bill is quite an accomplished Curse Breaker, who knows what sort of protections he'd used to surround his home.

"I have a little boy." The girl took another step closer, her thin blonde hair lifting in the sea breeze.

"You do?"

"He's younger than you, but he'd love it here. Do you like it here?" I squatted in the tall grass then and within seconds she was in my arms.

She kicked me a bit but I was expecting it. Frankly, I was surprised she wasn't shouting or flaring with untamed magic. Instead, my prize burst through the door of Shell Cottage shouting for her daughter.

"Maman!"

"Victoire!" It was obvious they loved each other greatly. Fleur Delacour Weasley's eyes were wide with suspicion, fear and love. It really was a beautiful sight. For a moment I wondered if my eyes shone with those same emotions when...

Shit. The little girl whose name was apparently, Victoire, pretentiously French if you ask me, kicked me. I dropped her a bit yet retained my hold on her arms until she stomped my bloody foot. I wasn't expecting that. Instinctively I dropped her arms and watched her run toward her mother.

"Hello, Fleur. It's been a long time."

"Oo are yoo?"

"You don't remember me? That hurts my feelings, Fleur. Send the little one away now. Wouldn't want her to get caught in the cross-fire now would we?"

"Victoire," Fleur hisssed, never taking her eyes off the offending witch, "Go to zee houz. Eef I am not back, take ze Floo. Go to Nee." Fleur gave Victoire a shove as she flexed her knees, prepared to duel.

Fleur's accent was still as ridiculous as I remembered as she spoke to her daughter in these fragmented tones. Great. Now I had a time limit. What a pain. I really wanted to take my time but with the little girl waiting for her mother's return I had to work fast.

Fleur looked pretty fierce in her yellow dress. She brandished her wand with her knees bent, her empty hand raised behind her. It was a perfect dueling stance really. I bet she perfected that before the TriWizard Cup, fucking bitch. She wasn't the best of the best, unless she was the best of what Beaubaxton's had to offer, which is a bit pathetic if you ask me.

She was waiting for me to fire a curse. Her fingers were twitching and she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. Fleur was prepared, I'd give her that, however, I hadn't gotten to where I was without having a few tricks of my own.

My wand was safely in the folds of my cream dress. I fingered the tip of it, deciding to leave it exactly where it was. I didn't need it. I wouldn't need it to best her.

*_Incarcerous_* My lips barely moved, I was still working on the non-verbal portion of magic, but it got the job done. Ropes flew through the air, binding Fleur easily. The surprise on her face was priceless. I plucked her wand right from her fingertips as I kneeled beside her.

"Tell me, Fleur." Her blue eyes looked dangerous, but I wasn't afraid of her. I settled beside her and brushed a few stray hairs off her forehead. Her blonde hair was incredibly silky and if I had more time, there's no telling how I would amuse myself.

"Do you ever think about it? No? Not going to speak to me then? That's not very pleasant Fleur. I'm sure your parents raised you better than that. I think about it. Quite a lot these days. If you had been better, it would have been different. My life wouldn't have turned into...well, no matter then. Best get to it before your little one runs off to shout to the Aurors. Can't have them interrupting me." With an easy flick of my palm, Fleur was naked and pinned to the ground on her stomach.

"S'il te plait! Please!" I didn't much care for her begging. She was simply a means to an end. I thought I'd feel relief as I crossed off the names on my list, but I didn't. I didn't feel anything, except empty.

I kept waiting to feel something, anything. I wanted to be able to feel free. I kept thinking if I just did away with all the people who were even inadvertently connected to what happened to John and…and…and Henry, it would be alright. I could let them go. They deserved someone to fight for them. Logically I knew it wasn't my job necessarily to seek vengeance for my deceased family, but it wasn't as if anyone else was doing a thing about it. I also recognised it really was a perverted sense of revenge, but at this point, it suited me just fine. Fuck them. Fuck them all. I wanted to watch it all burn.

"Please what? Please don't hurt you. Please don't hurt your kid. Please don't kill you or your kid or your husband. Why do you bother to beg? I could do any of those things and you wouldn't be able to change them. Do you think I wasn't begging for my family? No one could hear me scream either." I sighed with a smidgen of disgust. I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to be done and then maybe, I could be free.

"Not for me." Fleur began to cry and I resisted the urge to slap her.

"I'm not going to kill your precious little Victoire. Children are quite innocent aren't they? Especially at that age. It's only when they're older do they wreck havoc, turn everything to shit." I pulled my wand out, twirling it slowly. I could see the little girl's crying face in the window. She hadn't left yet, but she would soon. I had to begin.

Fleur screamed as I ran my wand down her spine. I assumed it was quite painful to have one's skin burned with magic. When the first rune appeared on the small of her back, I sighed in relief. This was the part that eased my aching soul.

"Please."

"Ach. Again with the begging? What Fleur?!" I paused, giving her a moment to say whatever it was she was aching to say.

"I am pregnant." It took me a moment to suss out her words. That accent was going to be the death of...well shit. I had heard a rumor but she looked the same. I supposed she wasn't very far along and now I was going to have to let her go. I suspected as much, but having it confirmed so was disappointing.

I suppose lesser witches and wizards wouldn't. I had no qualms with murdering people, obviously, but the unborn was something completely different. I would do anything to feel the flutters of life in my body once more. I would do anything to feel Henry's chubby little arms wrapped around my neck. It was an impossibility of course; even the Ministry hadn't bothered pairing me in their ridiculous law.

Of course they knew my husband was dead, but the secret I had kept so well came to light quite easily upon the announcement of the Marriage Law. Kingsley had been so kind. His chocolate eyes filled with so much pity, I was hard pressed to keep from falling into his bulky arms. I wasn't eligible, not that I wanted to be. The thought of being chained to a wizard made me violently ill. Henry was all I would ever have and he was long gone.

I glanced over my shoulder as I continued carving the runes into her skin and noticed the little girl was gone. I shouldn't have been so hasty. I should have forced the little girl to return. I knew I was running out of time, but I had to finish.

It was a sloppy job, I knew that, but I hadn't a choice. I Silenced Fleur, hoping if the Aurors arrived before I was finished, I would have a few moments to Disapparate. As I burned the last rune into her supple flesh I could hear shouts in the distance and ducked down in the tall grass.

I shouldn't have used my own wand, but at this point, what did it matter? I was more than halfway through my list. Seven down, five to go.

"There! In the grass!"

I stood up quickly, and I felt afraid. It was an unfamiliar feeling. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually felt afraid. I could see Harry Potter and his team of Aurors running alongside Shell Cottage toward me. I expected them to shoot off a few spells in my direction, but they didn't.

I'm amazed bloody daily that Harry Potter managed to defeat Voldemort. He's been quite a mess since his favourite researcher has been out of sorts. I laughed, thinking of Hermione Malfoy. I can't believe she married Draco Malfoy, but what did I care really? He's nothing to me, just as much as I'm nothing to him. I haven't meant anything to anyone for a long time, if ever. I killed my one time friend without a second thought. I snapped, it was an accident but that was the catalyst. It's what gave me the idea to continue. I would show them all they never should have discounted me.

Harry stopped short, his hand clenched into a fist beside his ear and the other Aurors stopped as well. Oh, I see. They were worried I was going to murder Fleur. Well, that definitely worked to my advantage.  
I waved. Harry's head tilted to the side as he studied me but I didn't want him to study me. He was quite astute. I didn't want to give him anymore clues. He had plenty already and was no closer to discovering who was killing these people.

I found myself smiling at that bit of information. I was outsmarting Harry Potter. I was evading The-Boy-Who-Lived. I was standing directly in front of the man who brought down Voldemort and he couldn't do a fucking thing about it. Then I Disapparated.


	16. Kisses & Suspects

**AN: So many ideas swirling...whatever shall I do with them?! Thank you my lovelies, for reading, for reviewing, for taking yet another journey with me. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 16 - Kisses &amp; Suspects

* * *

Harry ducked the plates and cutlery flying past his head toward the sink basin with a grimace. He hadn't meant to upset her. He had only wished to chat with her a bit. Honestly, he wanted to ease the tension marring both households but Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"You're not even listening to me." Harry hated seeing her in such a state. He didn't understand what had happened.

"Why are you even here, Harry? Don't you have some pressing Auror business to attend? If I remember correctly, there were five homicides and two attempted murders. You're wasting valuable time here. Isn't Fleur still in St Mungos?" Hermione slammed the kettle onto the cooker.

"Stop changing the subject." Harry groaned, for a moment he wished Draco was home to diffuse the situation. Mentally, he chastised himself for the very thought.

"What subject is that Harry?" Hermione's fists slammed to the counter.

It had only been a few weeks since she had unceremoniously tossed Astoria from her home. The entire situation had been inconsequential in comparison to Fleur Delacour Weasley's attack. Hermione had meant to visit Fleur, yet with the Weasley's constant hovering, she felt uncomfortable. She loved them dearly, but she was avoiding Astoria. She didn't want to see the woman who harboured feelings for Draco. Hermione hadn't the heart to discuss it with neither Harry nor Draco for that matter. She didn't want to see the pity in their eyes, hear the apologies on their lips.

To be quite honest, she'd been spending an extraordinary amount of time with Nick Moretti. It was easy to befriend him. He didn't have the memories connected to the war. He didn't understand the dynamics of the British Wizarding World and it was refreshing. It was completely innocent, at least on her end, but she enjoyed his company. He didn't make her angry. He made her laugh instead of cry. He listened, which quite frankly she needed. Of course the one day Nick was running late was the day Harry Potter chose to confront her.

"I don't know." Harry sighed. "James is growing like a weed. You haven't seen him in awhile. Stori's been..."

"Harry. James is a baby. I told you to bring him whenever you wish." Harry noticed Hermione refused to speak of his wife and it bothered him.

"What happened between you and Stori? I thought you were friends."

"I thought so too, Harry, but I was wrong." Hermione poured them cups of tea and set out a plate of fresh baked scones.

Harry waited for her to sit beside him in the breakfast nook, yet she sat across from him instead. Harry studied her while she fingered her tea cup, noticing the circles under her eyes.

"Hermione, we've been mates since we were children. You and Ron know me better than anyone. You both stood up for me when I married Astoria and I suppose some childish notion believed we'd be mates for life."

"Did she tell you, Harry? Did you know before you married her? Don't lie to me." Hermione knew Harry was rambling in order to avoid the real issue. It's what he did. It's what he'd always done and she didn't expect this time to be any different.

"Where's Malfoy?"

"He's in our Potions lab where he always bloody is these days. Answer the question, Potter." Harry cringed. Hermione had to be furious to refer to him like that.

"Fine. Alright, I knew then. Are you happy now?" Hermione flinched when Harry slammed his tea cup onto the wood table. She hadn't expected _his_ anger.

"You knew Astoria was in love with Draco and you married her anyway? I don't even know who you are!"

"Wait what? Why would you say that?"

"That's why you've been so angry with me?" Hermione and Harry whipped around to see Draco Malfoy sitting on a barstool. They'd been so involved in their conversation, he'd slipped in unnoticed.

"Malfoy? What's she talking about?"

"Harry, what were you talking about then if that wasn't it?" Draco slid off the stool elegantly, as he did everything and walked toward his wife.

Hermione allowed his arms to come around her, pressing her to him and relaxed. Draco sighed at the trembling of her limbs, the pounding beat of her heart.

"I thought you were talking about her cheating on me. She told me. I forgave her and we got married. It wasn't...she wasn't...she didn't, Malfoy tell me it wasn't.."

"Ugh, Potter. Never in a million years. Why are you here?" Draco smoothed Hermione's hair as he held her tighter. He loved the way she fit against him just so and he didn't appreciate Harry Potter upsetting his wife.

"Ron asked me to speak with her. He really wants her to attend his unfortunate wedding to Millicent Bulstrode. I don't even know how we wound up talking about Astoria." Harry shoved a lemon scone into his mouth and rolled his bright green eyes.

"You're the worst Auror in the history of Aurors, Potter. Your observation skills leave something to be desired. Obviously Nee overheard the ridiculous conversation I had with Astoria. Haven't you noticed your wife hasn't stepped foot into our home since Fleur's attack?"

"I've been a bit busy, Malfoy!" Harry huffed with indignation and if she wasn't so angry, Hermione would have laughed. While she hadn't turned around, she knew Harry's hair was a haphazard mess on his head and his eyes were filled a combination of anger and confusion.

"Nee, she doesn't love me, not really. Even if she did, does it matter?"

"Of course it matters!" Hermione and Harry shouted together. Hermione shoved Draco, struggling as he refused to release her.

"Harry?" Hermione groaned upon hearing Astoria Potter's nervous voice stemming from the Floo.

Draco forced Hermione onto the bench of the breakfast nook and headed toward the Floo. Harry slumped beside her, unsure of the emotions coursing through him. Astoria and Draco's bickering could be heard as they came up from the Traveling Room, Lucius Malfoy trailing behind them with displeasure.

"Sit."

"Father, I hardly think.."

"SIT!" Draco immediately sat beside his wife, covering her hand as Astoria sat beside Harry. Lucius was incredibly amused by the four adults before him. He detested being involved in petty personal matters, however if intervening made Hermione continue to supply him with chocolate biscuits, he was willing.

"Speak." Lucius pointed his cane at Harry Potter.

"Father, perhaps it would be better.." Draco stopped speaking upon receiving the famous Lucius Malfoy glower, complete with a singular raised eyebrow.

"Hermione said Astoria is in love with Malfoy." Harry propped his head on his hand, avoiding his wife's blue eyes.

"Is this true?" Lucius Malfoy's face remained impassive, pointing his ivory handled cane in Astoria's direction.

"I don't think.."

"Obviously. Answer the question Ms Greengrass." Astoria gulped loudly, wiping her hands on her cornflower blue skirt. She kept glancing at Harry but he refused to look at her.

"May I explain?"

"Just answer the fucking question, Stori." Harry slammed his fist on the table, jarring the empty tea cups.

"I had a sit down with Millie this morning. She's a bit nervous about the wedding, which is expected. You should see her, she's quite lovely now considering.."

"The point, Ms Greengrass. Get there." Lucius tapped his cane on the floor, unimpressed and finding himself quite peckish.

"Alright! Millie and I were discussing our Hogwarts days. I was only a year behind and she asked me if I'd ever forgiven Daphne. I didn't understand what she was going on about obviously."

Hermione sighed with boredom. She snuggled into Draco's side, smiling slightly as his arm automatically came around her side. He smirked while cupping her breast just beneath the table edge.

"It was our last big hurrah. The Alumni was visiting because we were the first class to graduate after the war. I drank a lot, more than I did usually and Daphne and I were getting along famously, which never happened. She is quite a bitch. We were in the Slytherin common room. I was to meet Harry, but I didn't make it. Instead, I woke up in..."

"My bed. That's right." Draco interrupted, continuously stroking Hermione's side.

"You shagged my wife?"

"Potter, we've been through this. I've never touched her."

"Children."

"Father, we're not children."

"Behave as such, be treated as such. Continue Draco. I do not wish to listen to Ms Greengrass any longer." Lucius sighed heavily, hoping to get to the root of the matter before nightfall. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he'd be able to convince Hermione tonight was a perfect night for fish and chips.

"I don't know. McGonagall issued us beds for the night. She was encouraging reminiscing or some other such nonsense. I never did get back to the Slytherin common room. I er uhm, passed out in the uh..." Draco blushed to his father's great amusement.

"In the Gryffindor common room, with your head in my lap, which almost got you hexed by Ron." Hermione finished succinctly with a small grin.

"Yes, this is all lovely. I'm delighted for all of you. However, what is the point?" Lucius felt the beginnings of a headache.

"I woke up in Draco's bed. Daphne convinced me that I had...slept with him. I didn't remember of course, and I thought he had changed his mind. He hadn't and I felt awful about it. I confessed to Harry and.."

"You never told me it was Malfoy!"

"Would it have mattered, Potter? You forgave her for something she didn't even bloody do. She could shag the entire Slytherin Quidditch team and you'd have married her because you're pathetic and you love her." Draco kissed Hermione's temple, hoping this entire ridiculous debacle would be over soon. He was quite famished.

"Why would Daphne do that?" Hermione was tired of sitting.

She nudged Draco until he moved and then she was bustling about the kitchen. Lucius hid his smile as she pulled out the fish and began slicing potatoes.

"That woman has always fancied my son. She was quite put out when our families entered into discussions concerning Draco and her sister. She would have done anything to secure him for herself. My son of course would hear nothing of it. He, himself was quite besotted with a particular Gryffindor to our great chagrin." Lucius winked, which made Harry feel a bit ill.

"Yea, that's alright then, but why would you think you're in love with Malfoy, Stori? I don't understand." Harry scratched his head in confusion.

"I don't even know, quite honestly. I was overwhelmed with the baby and my hormones were a mess. You're always gone and Draco's been my best friend for almost ever and he was being so nice to me. You spend all your time with Hermione. I see the way you look at her. I'll never know you the way she knows you and I hate it. I figured my husband's in love with Hermione Granger why can't I be in love with Draco Malfoy? It's not so farfetched is it?" Astoria held her head high, even as the tears fell from her eyes.

"Ridiculous." Lucius sniffed, silently gleeful as he heard the oil popping behind him. "Mr. Potter is no more in love with my daughter-in-law than I am with a house-elf." Draco snorted against his better judgement, unable to contain himself.

"Stori..."

"Hey oh. I uh, let myself in. Sorry but uh, I was like listenin' over there and if'n you doan mind there Mr. uh Malfoy, I'd like ta have a say." Nick Moretti swaggered into the kitchen, his thumbs through the loop holes of his dark jeans. He nodded at Draco and Harry, but his eyes were studying Astoria.

"Hermione, if I'm not mistaken, I hear the crackle of fish and chips?" Lucius turned on his heel to hover over Hermione as she prepared the evening meal.

"I know we're uh not whatchu would cawl friends and that's a'right. It doan bother me none. When uh I first came out here, I saw how Harry and Draco worked and I knew it would take me a lifetime ta work with someone like dat. They gotta shorthand that I doan understand yet. It doan mean I ain't good at my job. I am. It juss means I ain't there yet. I'm not Draco and I ain't gonna try to be. It's hawd bein' on the outside lookin' in, but uh Harry loves you as much as uh Hermione loves Draco." Nick shrugged and without waiting for a response, pushed away from the table.

Draco frowned as he watched Nick maneuver around his kitchen. Nick pulled the plates down from the cupboard, stacking them beside Hermione. He uncorked the wine and set out the glasses. It seemed to Draco, Nick was spending entirely too much time around his wife and he wasn't sure how he felt about it. They didn't crash into each other. Their movements were reminiscent of dancing. Hermione seemed lighter, as if Nick released her tension and Draco decided he most definitely did not appreciate it.

"Come along, you lot. Supper's about to be served. Malfoy, come finish this salad for me? Don't huff at me Lucius, you'll be eating the bloody salad otherwise I'll hide pudding from you...again."

* * *

Dinner was a tense affair, yet Narcissa was oblivious. She chatted happily about how much Teddy how grown and hinting none too subtly about one day having her own grandchildren. Draco glowered at Nick over his wine glass, detesting the easy banter between Hermione and Nick.

"Nick, you were late today." Hermione's eyes twinkled with laughter while gesturing with her fork.

"Oh yeah, sorry 'bout dat. I got married and I hadda show her the apawtment. Whaddya call it here again?"

"Flat." Harry interjected, poking his fried fish with his butter knife.

"Married? I don't believe there's one witch who would allow herself to be married without a proper wedding." Narcissa shook her head, her lips set in a firm line of disapproval.

"No offense or anythin' Mrs. Malfoy but my bride is what you'd call uh..well she's a er..." Nick stumbled, unable to articulate his thoughts in a manner which would not be offensive to the matriarch.

"Bint."

"Bitch."

"Slag."

Harry, Astoria and Draco had no such issues as they easily interjected their thoughts on the matter. Lucius was eerily quiet, which would be surprising except he was eating as if he were a Weasley.

"Lucius, your table manners are most unbecoming. If this is what happens when left to your own devices, I shall insist you return to the Manor for your meals."

"How is your new bride, Mr. Moretti?" Lucius casually placed his cutlery beside his plate, pointedly ignoring Narcissa's smirk.

"I doan think what I have to say would be acceptable in mixed company, if ya know what I mean."

"Quite." Carefully Lucius cut his remaining piece of fish into bite size pieces under the watchful eye of his wife.

"I'd ask how Daphne is faring but I can't find it within myself to care. No offense, Stori."

"None taken...Hermione." Astoria tried to smile, but her blue eyes kept flicking to the pale blonde.

"Malfoy, I think you should kiss her." Draco choked on his sip of wine, barely managing to keep from spitting across the dining table.

"Love, that's not going to happen because, well, because I don't bloody want to kiss anyone other than you."

"Hermione has a point though, Malfoy." Harry pointed with his fork bouncing.

"Harry, what are you saying?" The nervousness in Astoria's voice was palpable.

"I believe, what" Lucius cleared his throat, still filled with unease as he attempted to use his daughter-in-laws given name. "Hermione is suggesting is if Draco and Astoria were to...kiss, Mr. Potter would know once and for all if his wife does indeed entertain romantic feelings for my son."

"Granger, Father, you can't be bloody serious. What about what I want? I don't _want_ to bloody kiss her. Frankly, I don't care how she feels. I don't feel that way and that's what matters!"

"Oi, Malfoy! I supported you marrying my best mate. The least you can do is kiss my wife." Nick laughed, loud and long, unable to contain himself.

"You Brits are fuckin' hilarious. Excuse my French Mrs. Malfoy."

"You're not speaking French." Narcissa's confusion added to the peals of laughter suddenly surrounding the dining table.

Hermione toyed with the hair on the back of Draco's neck until his eyes closed from the sensation of it. She smiled as Draco leaned toward her, practically putty in her hands. She kissed his earlobe softly, grazing it with her teeth.

"If you do this for me, I'll take the Potion." Draco shivered, letting Hermione's whispered words sink in. His eyes popped open in surprise with a gasp.

"You mean it?" Hermione reached into the front pocket of her pink and brown paisley skirt and removed a small bottle sporting a purple liquid. She placed it on the table and waited. "Are you sure you're ready? I don't want..." Draco held her cheek against his, inhaling deeply.

"If you're ready, I'm ready." Draco tried to kiss her then, but Hermione slipped through his fingers and shoved the bottle back into her pocket.

"Fine. You win. Come along, Stori. Let's get it over with then." Draco shoved back his plush dining chair and stalked toward Astoria.

"I-I don't want too."

"Astoria Potter you get up off your arse and kiss my husband right now! This is all your fault! You and your stupid simpering and your ridiculous hormones!" Hermione shrieked and even stamped her foot. It would have been comical, even Lucius would have laughed, yet she was so serious and he does so love her biscuits.

Draco stood beside the long dining table, near the archway and swallowed down the nausea rolling in his stomach. It seemed Astoria was feeling much the same way as her pallor had turned a lovely shade of light green. He would have felt pity for her, but this was her fault after all.

He'd forgotten how tiny Astoria truly was until she was standing directly in front of him. She raised her hands to place them on his chest, and he stepped away.

"No touching."

"Then you need to sit down." Draco rolled his eyes with a sneer. He yanked a chair around the corner of the table and sat down, his lip twitching.

"This isn't going to end well. Lucius, would you stand beside Hermione please." Narcissa spoke behind her wine glass. It wasn't necessary; no one was paying a bit of attention to her. Lucius made quite a production out of rising from his chair and taking his place beside Hermione. When he placed his hand on the small of her back, he could feel her trembling and it left a rancid taste in his mouth.

"Get on with it then."

"Why should I kiss you?"

"It's your fault. Nee is the only girl I've ever kissed first and I'm going to keep it that way." Astoria gathered her small satchel of determination and courage. She took a deep breath, leaned forward and pressed her lips against Draco's.

She always thought it would feel like sunshine and fireworks if she ever managed to kiss Draco Malfoy. She thought the world would be her oyster. She believed magic would course through them and he'd never want to be with anyone other than her for the rest of his life. Instead, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. Well, that wasn't precisely true. She felt a bit of revulsion. His lips were soft, he smelled divine and yet she felt nothing.

Draco gave her a shove, instantly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He resisted the urge to spit on the pristine floor, more to avoid his wife's wrath than to spare Astoria's feelings.

"Happy now?" Draco was fully prepared to berate his wife. Instead, he found her bent at the waist, his father's arm holding her upright as a groan escaped her lips.

"The rings, Draco." Draco paled, forgetting for a moment the fidelity charm on their rings.

"I think I'm going to be sick." Astoria mumbled. She turned on her heel with her hand over her mouth before hurrying toward the loo.

"Good." Lucius aided Hermione around the imposing table. Nary a moment later, Hermione was safely tucked into Draco's side as he moved into the sitting room. Dink immediately ushered the guests out of the dining room with promises of coffee and pudding.

"Deese are da best cookies." Nick moaned as he licked bits of melted chocolate from his fingers. "D'ya think you can teach Daphne to cook?"

"Normally, I'd say yes, but I detest her so, definitely not." Hermione smirked which Harry still found unsettling.

"You can come here for family dinner. It's more than family though. It's more like a dinner party. How long are you stuck with her?" Hermione was pleased to see Draco being amicable to her new friend, despite his reservations.

Lucius and Narcissa bid them adieu after Hermione pressed a tin of chocolate biscuits into Lucius' hands with the promise of more. Harry and Astoria sat side by side on the settee, giggling like school children.

"A couple few years. If I had known that youse guys had this stupit Marriage Law, I woulda stayed in New York."

"You can always go back and take Daphne with you." Harry snickered into Astoria's neck.

"Doan gimme ideas." Nick groaned, slurping his coffee, "Hey oh, Potter, I translated some of dem doohickeys from dat chick's back. They doan make sense to me but hey.." Hermione rolled her eyes as Harry and Draco clambered down the stairs, dragging Nick with them.

"Well, so much for a romantic interlude." Astoria huffed, wincing as she adjusted the wide straps of her blouse.

"Where's James?" Hermione's feet dangled over the arm of the red brocade chair. She twirled the ends of her curls around her finger, preparing to settle in for a long evening alone. There was no telling how long the boys would be poring over parchments and research tomes.

"He's at Molly's. I know, I know. She was horrid. She's been horrid and overbearing and everything you've ever said. I'm aware. It's just, I felt sorry for her. Charlie isn't speaking to her. He's staying at Shell Cottage with Bill and Victoire. Ron moved into the most darling little cottage with Millie and George is...well, George still has a tendency to have full conversations with the mirror. He hasn't responded to one of Tracey's owls. She's quite put out."

"Tracey? Tracey who?"

"Tracey Davis. She was in your year. Slytherin, so I don't expect you to know her really. She's a sight better than my sister."

"That's not saying much, Stori." Hermione closed her eyes, suddenly feeling fatigued.

"Hermione? Are we...will we be..alright?" Hermione nodded slowly. They would be alright. She didn't know if she and Astoria would ever be great friends, but if Hermione could forgive Ron, she could forgive anyone.

"I've got to go and fetch James. I'm about ready to burst."

"Oh, bring him here? Please?" Hermione popped up, her stomach lurching with the quick movement.

"I'll send Luna an owl and if I'm not mistaken, I've a lovely stash of biscuits, pasties and cake in the walk-in. Lucius has a wicked sweet tooth." Astoria smiled sweetly with a nod.

* * *

James gurgled happily in Hermione's lap. He was determined to catch the brown curls which swung near his chubby face. He squealed, bubbles of spit traveling down his chin when he caught one and tugged it.

"I can't believe how big he's gotten!" Hermione smothered his face in kisses. She allowed him to tug her hair as she propped him against her.

"He's almost three months now." Astoria licked the frosting off a particularly decadent piece of vanilla cake.

Luna sprawled on the floor of the loft, seemingly indulging in a bit of horizontal dancing. Her arms waved across the plush throw rug and James was enthralled.

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder what it would be like if I hadn't gone to the Ministry that day. If I had known. At this point I'd be what? Five months gone? And I.." Luna opened her eyes and was pleased to see Hermione wasn't crying. She was simply reflecting.

Luna tied her hair back, unwilling to allow baby James to yank on her blonde tresses. She crawled toward them on her knees, which would have seemed strange for any other witch. Hermione and Astoria had long since learned to accept their friend's quirkiness.

"I know you don't hold me in high regard, that's alright. We weren't especially close friends at Hogwarts. I do appreciate your slow acceptance. Ginny has always said the loss of my mother addled me a bit and I'm inclined to agree. I'm quite grateful Blaise chose to accept all of me. I'd like you to bear with me for a moment." Luna smiled, her radish earrings swinging even as James lunged for her butter beer cork necklace.

Hermione continued to bounce James on her knee, her curiosity piqued. Astoria thumbed through *Witch Weekly* snorting as she came across photographs of Harry with various witches.

Luna situated herself so close to Hermione's face it was invasive. She placed her cool hands on Hermione's cheeks, studying every freckle it seemed. The longer Luna studied her, the more Hermione's skin tingled. It started on her forehead, working its way through her hairline, until finally it slipped down the base of her skull, spreading across her shoulders. Hermione had never felt such a thing and in its own way, it was soothing. Luna gently pushed Hermione's hair off her face, her thumbs pressing on her hairline.

"Stori, take James. She's going to be drowsy." Hermione allowed Luna to gently lay her back on the chocolate brown sofa. She felt her feet being raised and her eyes closing. It was a strange bit of magic, but she hadn't expected anything less where Luna was concerned.

"If you weren't a Healer..." Hermione mumbled.

"Shhh. Drink." Luna pressed a vial to Hermione's lips.

Normally, Hermione Granger Malfoy would be filled with curiosity and the questions would fly from her lips as quickly as others drew breath. However, with the enveloping calm surrounding her, she could only open her lips and swallow. The liquid was cool yet as it traveled down her throat, into her stomach and it warmed causing gooseflesh on her arms and legs.

Hermione felt as if she were in a place between consciousnesses. That moment where one is almost asleep yet clinging to the remnants of consciousness. It was her favourite part of falling asleep. Vaguely, she was aware of Luna murmuring over her, pressing her fingers into her forehead and cheeks, down the sides of her throat and across her clavicle.

"I'm going to lift your blouse. Relax." The musical lilting of Luna's voice broke the eerie silence.  
Luna's smooth palms danced across Hermione's abdomen, her fingers pausing as she scooped an opaque substance from a tin. Hermione sighed, feeling the magic course into her.

"It's a salve for your scars. I know you're curious. It's for the internal scars. We weren't able to heal all of them right away. Goldstein was most disagreeable with attempting another approach. He doesn't seem to like you much, though; I assume it's your husband he truly detests. I do hope you've been taking your Potion."

"I had stopped actually. I uhm, well.." Hermione stumbled slightly, feeling the reproof emanating from Luna.

"Hermione, if you were concerned you should have come to me. It's a strengthening Potion to ensure what happened before does not repeat itself, barring human intervention of course. I knew you weren't ready and that seems to have changed, hence why we're participating in the ritual." Luna's deft fingers were surprisingly strong. Hermione winced under the pressure while Luna worked through the knots in her calves.

"Ritual?"

"It's an old witch's tale, Hermione." Astoria interjected, closing her mouth quickly upon receiving a venomous glare from the Healer.

"So was Voldemort, Stori and look how that turned out."

"Fair enough." Astoria rocked a now slumbering James wishing to utilise the nursery once more. Instead, she transfigured a plush pillow into a bassinet and placed James into it. She was intrigued by the flickers of blue magic sparkling across Hermione's skin as Luna worked.

"Pureblood witches have always had a difficult time conceiving heirs. Some families only produced female children and others only Squibs. That's what happens when the ancestral lines become blurred. Almost all of the purebloods are related in some fashion or another, it's no wonder the Ministry enacted a Marriage Law. It's quite barbaric, but necessary I believe, in order to keep the wizarding world in existence.

'The old witch's tale as Stori calls it, is actually a bit of Muggle science fused with magic. Muggles study the human body and have learned particular pressure points which correlate with internal organs and such. They learned that stress plays an important factor, but wizards are quick to dismiss such notions. I've been working with the Ministry in a Fertility Study to aid witches in reproduction."

"I've heard of that, actually. Didn't you help Cho?" Astoria felt a moment of pride. It wasn't often, ever if she was being honest with herself, that she knew something Hermione Granger didn't.

"I'm not supposed to speak of my patients, but you'd be surprised by the number of witches who have been able to conceive since the study became semi-public. The numbers weren't high enough to satisfy the Ministry, hence the unsatisfactory matches. I'll let you in on a secret though. They didn't match couples according to intelligence or even compatibility. They matched them based on their genetic ability to conceive." Luna's knuckled dug into the arch of Hermione's foot and she jumped, feeling twinges throughout her body.

"Shacklebolt said I would have been matched with Malfoy regardless."

"Of course. The Malfoy's are one of the longest incestuous pureblood families in the British wizarding world. It would be categorically impossible for Draco to conceive with a pureblood witch or even a half-blood. The logical conclusion is a Muggle-born or even a Muggle. Now. Hermione, I need you to take your Potion daily. It'll help the salve course through your skin to heal your internal scarring."

"I didn't know I had.."

"I know, dear. I didn't feel the need to address it until you were ready to conceive."

"How did you know?" Hermione whispered, feeling very small.

"Your aura changed. I know you've barely tolerated my plucking, but it was necessary. The black faded away on its own, which I find quite delightful. It would be best if you allowed me to do this for you once a week." Luna waved her wand over Hermione's body, smiling in satisfaction as blue and pink twinkling magical lights spread across her patient's skin before combining into a small ball over her abdomen and disappearing.

Hermione was overwhelmed with emotion, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. She found herself reaching out, grasping Luna's hand in her own and squeezing. She desperately wanted to ask Luna when, but she was afraid. That pesky emotion reared its ugly head once again, freezing the words on her lips.

"Family dinners. We used to have Sunday brunch at the Burrow but Malfoy and I hold family dinners now. It's almost an all day affair. Sometimes there's an impromptu Quidditch game in the back garden. Please come. Bring Blaise, I'm sure Malfoy would love to see him after spending his Sundays surrounded by Weasleys." Luna quirked her head to the side, as if she were weighing the possibilities before giving a quick nod.

"I have to leave now. I'm on the overnight shift at St Mungos. Oh, Hermione, to answer your question..." Luna rose off her knees, staring down at Hermione with her mysterious half smile. "September."

The moment Astoria had settled a cranky James by placing him on Hermione's chest; they could hear the boys clamoring up the stairs.

"If you wake him, I will castrate you Harry James Potter." Harry skid across the hard wood, terror in his green eyes. He stopped short, causing Draco to bump into him with Nick a step behind.

"Is she sleeping as well?" Draco's heart melted a bit upon spying James snuggled into Hermione.

"I'm not helping you."

"Mione..." Harry whined, "Sorry. Hermione. I slipped, please don't hex me."

"It's only one question, Hermione. I translated those runes but they doan make any sense to us and Harry here thought.." Nick winked even as Hermione glared at them.

"Fine. One question." Draco smirked, knowing his wife was never able to resist utilising her incredible intellect.

"Do you remember your toast at my wedding?" Nick groaned, Draco rolled his eyes, but Hermione, she smirked.

"Yes. Go away now."

"What? Wait! That wasn't the real question. Ow!" Harry rubbed the back of his head, frowning at his wife.

"You're an idiot, Harry. She said one question and you wasted it. Of course she remembers. She's Hermione Granger!" Astoria raised her palm as if to give Harry another slap yet he sidestepped her.

"Hermione Malfoy." Draco growled. He slipped onto the sofa beside her, pulling her feet across his lap.

"Ugh, fine, Harry, of course I remember. What of it?"

"Would you tell me exactly what you said?" Harry's throat constricted, his heart beat erratically and even his palms were a bit clammy. He hoped he was wrong.

"Harry, I love you more than love, for family isn't simply made, it is chosen. You are mine as I am yours. As we expand, we are theirs and they are ours. For love, for family, for life. Here's to The Boy Who Couldn't Live Without Me." Hermione smiled in remembrance. She had been so nervous, but over the moon to see Harry's happiness.

"We're fucked." Harry slumped against the wall, sliding down until he hit the floor and buried his face in his hands.

"What did they say?" Hermione sighed in resignation. She wondered if they would ever be able to simply be. The war was over, wasn't it?

Nick cleared his throat, yet said nothing. Harry's shoulders shook, which everyone besides Astoria ignored. She sat beside him on the floor, pulling him against her.

"Nick translated them. He's almost as good as you, love." Hermione noted the tightness around his eyes and swallowed hard.

"Tell me. Tell me the entire message thus far." Draco nodded, the knot in his stomach threatening to force him to revisit his dinner. He reached for her hand, threading their fingers together.

"Through my torment, you shall see, you deserve your tears, Harry Potter. Your love more than love is next." Hermione patted James' bottom, offering him to Nick as she struggled to sit up.

"Well, it narrows the list of suspects significantly."

"Only you would find the bright side of a death threat." Draco shook his head, while Nick held James as if he were a volatile potion.

"Think about it. It was a toast at Harry and Astoria's wedding. It was near the end of the night when the media had already been shown the door. The first dance had been danced, the cake had been cut. It was a gathering of friends at that point and..." Hermione leapt off the sofa and ran down the hall. They could hear her slamming open a door and rummaging through papers before she returned, breathless.

"Here, I have a photograph. Arthur took it, something about wishing to memorialise Dumbledore's Army under such a joyous occasion." Hermione thrust it into Draco's hand, chewing her bottom lip raw.

"Ya think it's one of youse guys friends? Thas fucked up."

"Who's in the picture, Hermione?" Harry's small, broken voice called to her, breaking her heart a bit. She knew he was regretting his refusal to investigate members of the Ministry. She knew he was blaming himself, yet again. He was Harry Potter. He wouldn't be anything other than himself if he didn't take the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"It's all of us, Harry. It's our friends, our relatives. Even those who weren't in the DA."

"Just, tell me.." Hermione grit her teeth and scanned the photograph.

"Abbott. Bell. Bones. Boot. Chang. Corner. Finch-Fletchley. Finnegan. Goldstein. Granger. Greengrass. Johnson. Jordan. Longbottom. Lovegood. McGonagall. MacMillan. Patil. Potter. Shacklebolt. Thomas. Andromeda. Bill, Charlie, Fleur, George, Ginny, Percy, Ron Weasley."

"Did anyone else notice my brilliant wife alphabetised our suspects?"

"Draco." Hermione climbed into his lap sniffing.

"I can't imagine any of them resorting to...this.." Harry's garbled words simply said what they were all thinking.

"Nick should head the investigation. Don't argue with me, Potter. We're all biased. He's fresh eyes. The only one we can positively remove from the list is Corner as he's dead."

Hermione sat on the floor with pictures and parchment spread out on the coffee table. The only sound was her quill scratching across the parchment. Draco knew Hermione was avoiding the real issue at hard by keeping herself busy. Astoria and James had been sent home by Harry hours before and still Hermione scribbled. Harry knew better than to interrupt her but it was difficult. He wasn't known for his patience after all.

"Nee, have a spot of tea for me please." Draco tapped her elbow with the tea cup and saucer, waiting until she finished scratching to the edge of the parchment.

"Oh, lovely." Even Nick managed a smile when Hermione tossed the quill down and greedily accepted the piping hot tea.

"Alright then, we've all been patient as you've scratched away, threatening us with hexes at the thought of interruption. What on earth have you been doing?" Harry lounged on the butter sofa with tired eyes.

"Narrowing suspects of course. How on earth can Nick be expected to make educated guesses without proper information?"

"Potter, you know better than to argue with her. Go on then, tell us, love. Moretti, you should take some notes."

"Oh that's not necessary. I made copies for all of you." Hermione's brilliant smile fell slightly at the chorus of rolling eyes.

"Of course you did." Draco patted her on the head, chuckling.

Hermione and Nick went through the list of witches and wizards one by one with an easy banter. It was well after midnight when they presented a final list. Harry wasn't the least bit surprised by how quickly they worked. It took a special sort of wizard to keep up with Hermione and the American Auror was well up to the task.

"I don't like it."

"Of course you don't like it, Harry. I don't much like it either, though honestly we should add Parkinson to the list."

"She's an Investigator! You're being ridiculous Hermione." Harry's foot bounced, causing the floor to creak.

"It's not ridiculous. I'm looking at this logically. After what happened at the flat..."

"Well, if that's the case than the Weasel should be on the list as well." Draco interjected with a snort.

"No!" Harry and Hermione shouted together.

"Why not?" Nick massaged his forehead, silently willing the constant bickering to cease.

"Honestly? Well, uh er, besides the fact his brother and sister-in-law were victims, he's..."

"An imbecile." Hermione finished Harry's statement succinctly.

"Fine. Adding Parkinson makes the original list 30 suspects. Though, she wasn't at Potter's wedding therefore she didn't hear your little speech. Back down to 29. Corner's dead. 28. Charlie and Fleur are victims. 26. Granger, Potter and Greengrass makes it 23. Lovegood? Absolutely not. 22. She-Weasel has a bit of a temper but she wouldn't target her family. 21. McGonagall is a crusty old bat. 20. Shacklebolt is the bloody Minister and while I'd love to hex him for the Marriage Law alone, he's entirely too squeamish for this. 19. Andromeda lost plenty during the war; she wouldn't put anyone else through it. 18. Bill wouldn't mar his own wife. 17. George is still a right mess and is barely aware of his surroundings. 16." Draco went through his copies putting x's by the names of suspects.

"Finnegan and Thomas immigrated to America. They weren't too keen on the Marriage Law considering they've been together since fifth year." Hermione interjected.

"Bloody Gryffindors." Draco mumbled.

"Hey!" Nick laughed, unable to contain himself at the righteous indignation painted on Harry and Hermione's faces.

"Anyone else youse guys can think to knock right off? We're down to fourteen."

"I can't imagine Hannah Abbott, sweet Hannah doing anything like this."

"Hermione, I can't imagine any of them doing something like this. Well, maybe Goldstein. He's a bit of a tosser. Neville? Padma? Molly?"

"Fuck you, Potter, Mother Weasley is terrifying. Remember when she went a bit bonkers? Her Muggle friend died in some freak accident and she demanded we intervene in the Muggle authority's investigation so we could Avada the culprit."

"Malfoy, she was distraught and once Arthur poured a few Calming Draughts down her throat she came to her senses."

"Yes, but Potter..." Draco swallowed, remembering the ruckus Molly kicked up, her screaming words reverberating in his mind's eye. "Remember what she said?" Harry's eyes widened, his hand subconsciously rubbing his scar.

"She said...You're dammed Harry Potter. Wait and see, just you wait and see. When it crumbles around you, you'll deserve your tears."


	17. Birthdays & Nargles

**AN: Alright my lovelies, this is the last chapter I've completed...though the next chapter is coming along nicely.**

**I could use a muse...that's not a twat. there seem to be loads of them about. twats I mean, not muses.**

***kisses* my pretties *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 17 – Birthdays &amp; Nargles

* * *

"Malfoy, it's your birthday." Draco arched his eyebrow at his frazzle wife, even as she whined.

He wasn't looking forward to his birthday or any other festivities for that matter yet his mother and Hermione wouldn't hear of it. Narcissa rallied for a full blown pureblood affair, which was quickly vetoed. It wasn't as if this particular birthday was noteworthy. It wasn't as if he was turning, Merlin forbid, thirty. It was only his twenty second birthday for Merlin's sake. All he wanted was to have a quiet dinner with his wife, a bottle of wine and if he was lucky, the evening would end with copious amounts of nudity.

Draco had been spending more than a few evenings in his Potions lab, to his wife's great irritation. There had been many a night when he hadn't gone to bed at all, only to wake with his face pressed upon yet another research tome. He knew Harry and Nick were doing their best to cross suspects off their list and he appreciated their efforts. However, the very thought that a madman was seeking to do his wife harm interrupted his sleep patterns.

Quite honestly, he had forgotten it was his birthday. He couldn't believe it had been a month since Molly Weasley became Harry Potter's number one suspect. He knew he had been the one to suggest it, but the very idea that frumpy, broken Molly Weasley was capable of the maim and murder of witches and wizards she'd known personally was disconcerting to say the least.

"Granger, I just want to spend it with you. Is that too much to ask?" Draco sidled up behind Hermione, his arms slowly coming around her waist while she stood at the sink basin.

She stared out the window into the back garden into nothingness. She stiffened, feeling him untie her dressing gown and spreading it open. She was unable to suppress the shiver as his palms gently stroked her exposed skin. His lips kissed her neck, his chin nudging her dressing gown off her shoulders. Draco's hands splayed across her flat stomach, his thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts.

"Draco." Hermione hadn't intended his name to sound as if it were a sigh, aching with need. She wanted to have the consternation to push him away, refuse him as she had done since Luna's first visit.

"Don't." Draco breathed into her hair, grinding into her backside. "Don't deny me. Not again. Not today." He vanished her knickers, along with her skimpy night shirt.

Hermione's breath caught in her throat the moment she felt his tongue behind her ear. Draco suckled her neck, holding her fast against him. As one hand grasped her breast, hefting its weight, the other wandered down her hip and across her thigh. He chuckled lightly, feeling the tremble in Hermione's knees when his fingers slipped between her legs. She sagged against him and he knew he had won.  
With a pop they were in their bedroom, Draco pressing her down into the crisp yellow linens, capturing her lips with a need Hermione had almost forgotten.

She'd faithfully taken her Daily Potion, allowed Luna to perform her weekly ritual and still she had denied Draco. Hermione was remiss to admit, while she wished for a child, she was terrified; especially in the face of potentially being the next murder victim. Draco tried to understand, he whispered promises of waiting as long as she liked. He made vows of contraception charms, verging on begging, as much as it pricked his Malfoy pride.

Draco groaned with relief when Hermione's fingers twined in his hair, her back arching against him, pressing her breasts into his hands. He greedily accepted her silent offerings, his mouth worshipping taut peaks as he settled himself between her thighs. He moaned in surprised when Hermione's hand snaked between the scant spaces between their bodies and grasped his length. She'd never done such a thing before and while he'd never complained of her inexperience he was pleasantly surprised by her actions. Draco shuddered, feeling her small, cool hands enclosed around him, applying a gentle, tantalizing pressure as she stroked him.

"I need you." He whispered, tugging her earlobe between his teeth. Hermione gave his chiseled chest a gentle shove, nipping his collarbone.

"Not yet. Turn over." A lingering flash of confusion flickered in his silvery eyes, even as he acquiesced to her sultry request.

Hermione slowed straddled Draco's hips, removing his hands from her waist to pin them over his head. She knew she wasn't strong enough to hold him there, that wasn't her intention. Her caramel eyes begged him to still and he nodded despite his desires.

Hermione sucked the sensitive spot at the base of his neck, satisfied with the circular red mark left in her wake. She teased the small pebbled peaks on his chest, with feather light kisses. Her nails teased his ribs, the jutting bones of his hips and her plush lips followed soon after. Hermione smiled against his skin when Draco held his breath. Her fingers dug into the tops of his thighs, his teeth embedded in his bottom lip, refusing to allow the groan to escape his lips. He thought he'd died and gone to heaven when Hermione grasped him once more, her thumb pressing on the underside of his length, her breath ghosting across the tip.

An unrecognisable guttural sound hissed from between his bruised lips when her lips wrapped around him, sucking hard. Draco's eyes were shut tight when Hermione glanced up at him. She chuckled, keeping her lips firmly clamped around him, making his buck into her. She gripped the base of his length, quickening her motions as his gasps increased in sound and frequency. Her tongue swirled around him; she felt his thigh contract beneath her free hand the moment before he forced her onto her back.

"No. No more. Can't." Draco's chest heaved with exertion, his face buried in the curve of her neck before plunging into her. He couldn't wait any longer. He didn't wish to wait any longer. He angled Hermione's hips, growling as he thrust hard and fast. Hermione's fingernails dug into the pale skin of his shoulders, raking down his back in painful pleasure. Draco claimed her lips, willing his body under control. He felt her constricting around him, knew she was seconds away from her own release and knew he wouldn't be able to hold back much longer when she exploded in a keen of gasps, moans and shivers, sending him quickly over the edge.

"Happy birthday." Hermione whispered the moment he collapsed on her chest. She wrapped her arms around him, stroking his back, peppering his exposed cheek in kisses until he rolled off her.

"Best. Birthday. Ever." Draco grunted, pulling Hermione into his chest.

* * *

"I can't believe you missed your birthday party." Narcissa railed at her son. Draco rolled his eyes and continued sipping his cup of tea while reading the Daily Prophet. "I had to explain away your absence to all your guests. They were more than understanding, of course, but the embarrassment, Draco. I don't know what you were thinking quite honestly."

"I was thinking I'd rather shag my wife than mingle with.."

"Draco!" Narcissa's perfectly manicured hand fluttered over her heart. Draco rolled his eyes in a most unbecoming fashion according to his mother. He was used to such dramatics. They no longer affected him in the least.

* * *

"It's about time." Luna smiled serenely, applying her special balm in an upward flourish with a twinkle in her light eyes.

"I can't believe you buy into this nonsense." Hermione grit her teeth not for the first time that day, regretting her decision to invite Ginny over for tea. She hadn't expected Luna's visit and now she was uncomfortable and irritated as well.

"About time for what?" Hermione ignored Ginny's jibe, concentrating on the cooling sensation as the balm soaked into her abdomen.

"That you've had relations with your husband, of course. It alters your aura and the balm does manage to be absorbed that much faster after relations." The tell tale blush on Hermione's cheeks was all the confirmation they needed. Ginny perched on the edge of the coffee table, leering at her old friend.

"Details!"

"How are things going with Gregory, Ginny?" Luna winked to Hermione as she segued the conversation.

"He's actually an alright bloke. You wouldn't think it to look at him. Not that there's anything wrong with him, he's much better looking than he was when we were in school. He's quite intelligent, which honestly I found surprising. Did you know he's apprenticing under Flitwick? He's first in line to become the new Charms Professor. He's actually been given funds from the Ministry for researching complicated Charms." Hermione hid a smile. It was strange seeing a flustered side to her fiery friend.

"I believe the war changed many people, what with the complete eradication of the Spriggle Mites. Nasty little creatures." Ginny and Hermione shrugged, waiting for Luna to continue. "Oh, you don't know of them then? Spriggle Mites attach themselves to ones deepest fears and compel unwitting witches and wizards into doing their bidding. I suspect Gregory Goyle was completely infested with them. They stemmed from Voldemort's excrement. I believe once he was destroyed, they were as well, which worked out quite well for Gregory, and in the end, for Ginny." Hermione never ceased to be amazed by Luna Zabini's moments of perceptiveness. She made a mental note to stop underestimating the strange witch.

"Did I tell you he wants to wait until our wedding night? He kisses me on the cheek for Merlin's sake."

"Does he know..." Hermione didn't have the heart to expand on her train of thought.

"Oh, he's aware." Ginny's brown eyes were wide in shock. "He knows I was shagging Theo. He knows I was with Harry as well. I suspect he has a suspicion when it comes to my involvement with Dean and Seamus, but I barely count that encounter. It wasn't a ménage a trois as much as a twosome and a voyeur. He doesn't even care. He thinks I'm smart and beautiful and worth the wait. Can you believe it?" Ginny was shaking her head, her eyes a bit glassy though Luna and Hermione would never mention such things.

"Why don't you send him an owl and invite him here for dinner. I seem to have an abundance of guests on a regular basis; we'll make a party of it."

"What about Daphne?" Ginny shuddered at the thought of being forced to break bread with the obnoxious Slytherin.

"Alright well, Nick would simply adore the invitation. I know she's horrid, but we're doing it for Nick not her. In fact, Luna, why not owl Blaise and Ginny send one to Ron and bloody Millicent. We'll eat in the garden, it's large enough to accommodate everyone and the weather is divine." Hermione shrugged, silently creating a menu which would appeal to the masses, knowing if Ron was in attendance she'd need to triple every dish.

"Oi, Luna, why did Blaise name the restaurant Mio Luna? I mean, I'm the last person to be able to claim I'm well versed in foreign languages, I've enough trouble with English but it doesn't sound quite proper does it?" Ginny was nothing if not blunt and while Hermione usually appreciated that particular trait, she felt a bit embarrassed by the question.

"Draco never told you? I'm surprised. I thought he would have said something by now." Luna smiled brightly, toying with the hem of her multi-coloured skirt

"Malfoy? What does he have to do with anything?" Ginny poured herself a glass of white wine while lounging across the plush butter throw rug.

"He has everything to do with it. Draco is Blaise's partner. We shouldn't have the restaurant without him. He didn't ask much really. He requested we hire Hermione as a consultant, which we did of course and well…" Luna paused, carefully studying the narrowing of Hermione's caramel eyes. "Blaise and Draco had a very long, incredibly boring conversation when it came to naming the place. Blaise vetoed every single one of my suggestions, but that's neither here nor there. Blaise was absolutely adamant he wanted my name in the title and Draco, well, you know he's fancied you Hermione and you know Astoria is his best friend and well…"

"Oh my gods. Meo-Mio." Hermione's hands flew to her face. She was feeling quite a bit conflicted. She wasn't sure if she should feel embarrassed or flattered or even somewhere in between, but in the end it didn't matter.

"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard." Ginny sniffled, distractedly wiping the tears from her eyes.

* * *

"Granger! What the bloody hell have you done?" Draco shouted from the bottom of the staircase while being jostled by guests stumbling from the Travel Room.

"Just send them upstairs Draco. Tell Harry and Nick to come up as well." Ginny was exhausted simply watching Hermione flit about.

The moment the owls returned with affirmative replies she set them to work. Dink, the house elf was thrilled with the prospect of serving guests and Hermione reluctantly set him to work as well. He practically skipped while erecting the tent. He joyously Apparated to Malfoy Manor to retrieve tables, chairs, linens and the centerpieces Narcissa insisted were required for proper etiquette.

"I could give a shit about proper etiquette." Hermione mumbled, using magic to stir the pots on the cooker, her hasty bun coming undone in the bustle while Draco resisted the urge to toss her onto the table.

"Hermione, Draco's got that look in his eye. It's a good thing he missed the flour fight. I don't believe he would have been able to resist." Stori carefully cut carrots and celery into perfect strips just as she was dutifully instructed.

"Flour? I missed the flour? That's my favourite part!" Draco whined, yanking on the gray vest Hermione demanded he wear to their impromptu dinner party. "I don't understand why we're doing this." He longingly fingered the dusting of flour remaining on the dining table.

Draco Malfoy was agitated. He didn't enjoy the hours upon hours spent in his workspace. He despised pouring over the piles of parchment without making any headway. He wished he'd never promised Shacklebolt his aid in the matter. He wanted the madman caught as much as the next wizard but at the same time he wished to fill his days with his wife. He'd never imagined this sort of life for himself, yet now that it was within his grasp he never wanted to let it go. He wanted to fill their home with the laughter of children. He wanted to feel his wife's body curled around him in firelight over glasses of wine and whispers. As much as he embraced these newfound emotions, they made him feel weak. Malfoy's were never weak; at least that's what he'd always been told. He worried about her, for her, with her constantly and it was wearing his nerves to the bone.

"You're worrying again." He felt as if his heart would shatter into a thousand pieces upon discovering her understated beauty. Hermione's fingertip brushed across his brow lightly, leaving behind the slightest trace of flour while she stared into his grey eyes. "Nothing's going to happen."

He removed the spoon from her hand, casually tossing it into the basin and pulled her into his chest. He studied her fingers, held carefully between his, in order to escape the intensity of her gaze. Draco didn't want to tell her they didn't have a suspect. She'd seemed so much more at ease believing they were closer to ending the mayhem. He knew she had allowed Harry Potter to convince her Molly was a viable suspect, which was absolutely ridiculous in his mind. Molly Weasley was no more the murderer than he was, but Harry refused to listen to reason, which was nothing new really.

Instead of laying his fears at her feet, he allowed his head to fall to her shoulder, breathing her in. Hermione sighed, pressing into his chest, feeling his arms encircle her tightly. His lips danced against her skin, his hands dropping down her back until they were grasping her hips. She knew something was bothering him, but she wasn't able to contemplate it further. She was distracted by the sounds of guests arriving and chatting in the garden even as her husband held her tight. Her brow creased, fretting slightly as she felt him tremble against her.

"Stori," Hermione called over her shoulder, unwilling to release him in such a state, "Would you please send for Narcissa. I'm sure she'll be absolutely thrilled to head the festivities." Without another word of explanation to the bright eyed witch, Hermione grasped Draco's hand firmly and led him upstairs.

Draco dutifully followed his wife, unable to formulate words of explanation for his bizarre behaviour. Hermione pushed him into their bedroom until he was sat upon their bed. He didn't look at her. He couldn't look at her, not yet. He dropped his head into his hands, tensing as he waited for her reprimand.

"Draco, what's wrong?" Hermione wedged herself between his knees, her fingers softly raking through his pale hair.

"I hate loving you." The bitter words spilled against her breast and Hermione froze, unsure she had heard him correctly. "I hate wanting you. I hate needing you. I hate waking in a breathless frenzy. I hate it when you're not there." Each statement was punctuated by the tear of fabric as he removed her flour dusted articles of clothing and tossed her on the bed. "I hate Harry Potter."

"Draco…Draco…calm down, please calm down. You're scaring me." Hermione's hands were pinned above her head, her apron the only speck of clothing left on her body.

Draco attacked her throat with a fervor, ignoring her pleas, lost in the thundering confusion of his own mind. She knew she was covered in bruises, from the pressure of his hands to the insistence of his lips yet the frantic whispers in her ear stopped her struggle.

"I hate how much I love you. I hate how I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you. I hate the threats. I hate this case. I hate my job. I fucking hate Harry Potter."

Hermione giggled, wondering how Harry would take the news of her being shagged into the mattress while her husband cursed his name.

"It's not funny Nee, it's not remotely funny." Draco released her wrists, kissing the fingerprint indentations with regret. He slipped his hand into her apron, caressing her breasts with a feather light touch.

"I know. I'm sorry, it's not often one can say their husband ravished them while cursing the very existence of Harry Potter." Hermione stroked his face, smoothing the lines of his brow with a small smile.

"It's entirely his fault. There's a madman about, intent upon seeking revenge for something Potter's done, though what it is we haven't a clue and they've included you in their death threats simply for the sake of hurting him. What about me?" He kissed her then, hard and unforgiving, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth until she winced.

"I don't understand what you mean." Hermione stroked his back lightly with her fingertips, studying the confliction in his grey eyes.

"There are two sorts of wizards in this world; those who adore Harry Potter and those who detest him. Now, those who adore him fawn and preen in his very presence. They also have a tendency to snarl, growl and be incredibly rude toward me. It doesn't bother me; I'm quite used to it. The others, the ones who detest him, they revere me. Why, I haven't the foggiest. I've worked with Potter for bloody years and married his best mate but that's the way it is. Therefore, my question really is, who is it that hates Harry Potter yet doesn't give a shit I exist? If they cared about me, even a little, they wouldn't be threatening to take my reason for living." Hermione was having difficulty focusing on Draco's impressively perceptive opinion.

His fingers stroked her legs, delicately shifting her apron until it barely covered the apex of her thighs. He bent her knee, teasing the ticklish spot behind the joint with his tongue until she squirmed. He smirked against her lightly tanned thigh, feeling the tension in her abdomen as she held her breath in anticipation. His breath was warm, causing gooseflesh even as his pale hands slid beneath her apron to rest on her abdomen.

"I want our child right here." He tapped the freckle to the left of her navel before kissing it. Hermione tugged the shaggy hair hiding his eyes from her.

"You can't say things like that after speaking to me of death threats." The rest of her thoughts dissolved in a breathless moan, flat palms against hardened peaks did it to her every time.

"I can. I have. It's logical, even you won't be able to refute the logic behind it." Draco dipped his tongue into her navel, his thumb brushing over her pebbled peaks until she couldn't breathe.

"I can't think when you do that." Hermione gasped, gathering his mussed hair into a tight fist.

"Good." His teeth tugged the tender flesh of her inner thigh, his tongue teasing her outer folds, her breaths stuttered with anticipation. "She doesn't murder pregnant women. It could save your life." His hands dropped from her breasts to dig into the flesh of her hips, pulling her into him, reveling in the sight of her arousal. He didn't want to give her a chance to refuse him. He teased the hardened nub, flicking it hard, growling as she clutched his shoulders.

Draco tore the apron from her and paused. His eyes raked her nudity, appreciating the flush on her cheeks which settled in the valley between her breasts. He adored the gentle rise and fall of her ribs and the freckles decorating the bridge of her nose. He climbed up her body slowly, focusing on her wide eyes.

"Malfoy wait…you said she…" She sighed, the sensation of his teeth grazing her throat almost more than she could bear.

"Don't be jealous love." Draco shoved his trousers off his legs with one hand impatiently.

"No, I mean you've got something there." Hermione pushed his chest and sat up. "The person you're looking for is a woman. She's a mother. Perhaps she's lost a child or even her husband. A true sociopath wouldn't give a second thought to killing a woman regardless of whether she was expecting." Draco pushed Hermione onto her back, completely focused on soothing his need.

"Hermione Jean Granger Malfoy, you will stop it immediately. Our house is filled with people and if I have to suffer through dinner with them to appease you as well as my mother, you will stop your incessant babbling and allow your husband to shag you." Draco wrenched open her knees and slammed into her.

"Well, I can't very well argue with that can I?" Hermione arched her back, flexing her hips to spur on his movements and of course, he complied.

* * *

"You're late. Your hair is a disaster. It's quite obvious what you've been doing. Absolutely reprehensible…with guests no less!" Narcissa gathered her daughter-in-laws hair at the base of her neck, attempting to smooth the errant curls.

Hermione allowed her these moments, knowing in her heart of hearts Narcissa Malfoy had always lamented never having a daughter. It was strange to feel the nimble fingers of the aristocratic woman tending to her hair, adjusting the white flower decorating the shoulder of her mint green cocktail dress. She had wanted to throw on a pair of faded jeans and a sweatshirt but she didn't wish for Narcissa to suffer a coronary. Hermione had dutifully allowed Narcissa to pluck the garment from her wardrobe and attach the flower.

"The gardenia complements the lemon of your hair products." Narcissa gathered the sides of Hermione's curls, twisting them gently, gathering them loosely at the base of her neck and tied them with a white ribbon. "Since I can't imagine you being comfortable in those delicious peep toe heels, the white ballet flats hidden beside the bureau would be the perfect choice." Narcissa transformed the ribbon lacing the back of Hermione's dress into the same shade of white as the ballet flat and declared her acceptable.

"Thank you." Hermione felt as if she had a mother for those few moments and while Narcissa could never be considered a warm woman, her efforts were appreciated.

"Come along then my dear, your guests are waiting. Quite an eclectic collection of witches and wizards if I do say so myself, I never would have imagined it, but it's lovely just the same." Narcissa adjusted the décolletage of her royal blue robes before removing the matching cloak.

"I know I wasn't your first choice but thank you for your kindness." Hermione slipped her bare feet into her ballet flats and opened the bedroom door.

"My dear, you misunderstand. You were the only choice." Narcissa's half smile was fleeting and then she was gone.

* * *

Hermione and Draco smiled, shook hands and waved to their assortment of guests before finally sitting in a lawn chair. Draco held his wife on his lap, pretending he couldn't hear her objections.

"You're insatiable."

"Nee, if I'm to spend the evening surrounded by Gryffindors, the least you can do is allow me to cop a feel." He kissed her bare shoulder, his right hand stealthily sneaking up the side of her cocktail dress with a leer.

"I thought it would be nice. I mean, the weddings will be starting soon and it'll be utter and complete madness. We robbed your mother of the opportunity host an outlandish birthday party for you and look how much fun she's having." Hermione gestured toward a laughing Narcissa engaged in a conversation with Blaise Zabini.

"She laughs so she does not cry. Luna is bloody plucking my mother's aura." Draco kissed Hermione's cheek, drawing her attention to a stiff Lucius Malfoy who was cornered by Pansy Parkinson.

"You should rescue your father."

"Absolutely not, he deserves it. He keeps eating all the bloody biscuits."

"Ginny and Greg look incredibly sweet." Draco lifted his head to see Ginny perched upon Goyle's lap while she fed him strawberries from a crystal bowl.

"Sweet Salazar, is that really Goyle? He's not a fat bastard anymore is he? D'ya suppose he's still dim?"

"You're so obnoxious. Goyle is apprenticing with Flitwick and he's quite enamored with Ginny." Draco snorted, eyeing a platter overflowing with chicken.

"Of course he is, Goyle's never had a woman's attentions before. Ginny is alright to look at for a Weasley and she loves sex, what's not to love? Theo on the other hand, looks downright miserable with his witch." Hermione sighed as she gazed upon an obviously forlorn Hannah Abbott who kept shooting furtive glances toward Neville Longbottom.

"I'll take Hannah, you take Theo. I can't bear to watch them look so miserable. This is a party and if they're determined to sulk, at least they'll leave completely stuffed. This spread your mother settled on is quite impressive." Hermione reluctantly left the safety and warmth of Draco's lap, pasted a smile on her face and waved at Hannah.

She didn't know the witch particularly well, but for Theo's sake she took it upon herself to do a bit of meddling. Hannah was a sweet witch, Hermione knew that much. She would have to be to have caught Neville's eye in the first place. It was such a shame the Ministry had taken it upon themselves to destroy relationships with their ridiculous law. It wasn't that she was against the idea of rebuilding the wizarding community; it was simply the manner in which they were going about it. Hermione knew the Ministry was claiming they were making matches based off genetic compatibility, but they refused to even entertain the notion of relationships needing more than scientific data to flourish. Though, she had to admit from observing various couples that evening, Neville and Pansy seemed to get on just fine.

"Hannah, I haven't seen you in ages. I'm absolutely famished; would you like to have a bite with me? I think the boys would love to have a few moments. I'm sure they'll join us when they're done gossiping about us." Hermione grasped Hannah's hand, frowning slightly at the lackluster blonde hair hanging limply down Hannah's back.

"It was lovely of you to have us." Hermione was forced to sit uncomfortably close to Hannah in order to make sense of the whispers.

"Hannah, are you alright?" Hermione heaped their plates with sliced chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans slathered in butter and almonds, glazed carrots, slivers of tender beef in a succulent jus and crisp butter rolls.

Hannah's brown eyes stared at the overflowing plate until she shrugged and began picking at the selections. She didn't know how to explain the tumultuous emotions battling within her. She liked Theo well enough. He wasn't a bad bloke and he tried. He had been incredibly sweet and apologised profusely to her. He'd felt terrible knowing she wouldn't be able to marry the wizard she had loved, but she was quick to point out it wasn't his fault. Theo had brought her flowers for their first date and she hadn't the heart to tell him she was allergic to roses.

"What would Neville think?" Hannah sniffed, pushing bits of potato around her plate.

"You've got to be more specific than that. What would Neville think about what? Your budding relationship with Theo? I mean, I don't really understand the problem. Perhaps I'm being obtuse, but you were matched with Theo months ago and I thought things were going swimmingly. Neville and Pansy are moving things along quite nicely. They've just purchased a lovely townhouse and set their wedding date. I truly believe Neville would want you to be happy." Hermione was afraid she had overstepped when Hannah burst into tears. Hermione's fork clattered onto the obscenely large wooden table when she threw her arms around the sobbing girl.

"I slept with him." Hannah's ragged sob tore Hermione's heartstrings.

* * *

"Oi, Theo." Draco offered Theo a flask of brandy with a wink. "Granger said I'm to cheer you up. You look like you've lost your cock or something equally disturbing. Spill it before they come back."

Theo Nott gulped the spicy blend of alcohol with closed eyes, hissing as it burned its way down his throat. He didn't want to talk about anything and especially not to Draco Malfoy. He wanted to wallow in his misery. It was obvious Draco was disgustingly happy and dammit it all to Hades he wanted that as well. He had liked Ginny well enough, but not enough to commit to her for the long haul or anything and she understood that. When he learned he had been matched with Hannah Abbott, his first inclination was to curse himself for not marrying Ginny when he had the chance. Ginny wasn't exactly what he would call intellectually stimulating but it was better than marrying Neville Longbottom's sweetheart.

Until he met her. Until he spoke to her. Until he got to know her. Hannah Abbott was quiet, unassuming, a Hufflepuff and Theo was a bit smitten. He didn't want to admit it. It pricked his pride to know he and Longbottom had something in common.

Though from the looks of it, Neville and Pansy were moving right along in their relationship considering his hand was high on her thigh. Ginny was blushing while a fumbling Gregory bloody Goyle kissed her cheek and the gods be dammed if Millicent Bulstrode wasn't smothering Ron Weasley's face in wet kisses.

"What the hell is going on in the world, Malfoy?"

"Bulstrode is eating Weasley's face but on the upside she's much better looking than when we were in school. Pansy spent a good fifteen minutes telling Patil how sweet Longbottom's lovemaking is and I almost vomited all over the buffet." Draco snorted, intent on cheering up his mate.

"Which Patil?"

"Whichever one is here. Granger keeps insisting I learn which is which but I can't be bothered. I don't care."

"I shagged Abbott." Draco resisted the urge to snort or bark out in laughter. Instead he coughed lightly, rubbing his hand on the stubble decorating his chin.

"Uhm, er…I shagged Granger." Theo chanced a small glance at Draco and it amused him to see his cheeks a delicious shade of pink.

"Yea, gathered that from the moans earlier. Didn't your mum ever teach you to shut your bloody windows when you shag with guests about?" Theo quirked his head while wondering why Granger was embracing Hannah. It looked as though Hannah was crying; the shag couldn't have been that bad, could it?

"Is Abbott bloody crying all over my wife? Merlin, Theo what the hell did you do to her?" Hermione waved Draco away. It was obvious from the set of his jaw he had half a mind to storm over to them and demand answers.

"I don't fucking know. I've been seeing her for months. She's sort of grown on me and she's really quite smart. One thing led to another and we shagged after setting a bloody wedding date. I stayed over and when I woke up in the morning, she was crying in the lavatory, so I booked it and haven't seen her since. I don't know what to make of it." Theo pulled on his dark hair, suddenly furious with himself and with Hannah as well.

"You're an idiot. She was obviously overwhelmed because of her feelings for Longbottom yet she obviously feels something for you otherwise she wouldn't have shagged you. She's conflicted and when women are completely overwhelmed they cry. You being the blithering idiot you are and leaving simply compounded the matter and instead of making her feel better about the situation, you made her feel inconsequential. Sweet Salazar I sound like Granger."

* * *

Hermione awkwardly patted Hannah's shaking shoulders, silently wishing she could finish her plate in peace. It wasn't the nicest thought she'd ever had, but she was hungry dammit.

"Is she alright Hermione?" Hannah immediately wiped her tear stained cheeks on the sleeve of her yellow blouse and smiled at Luna Zabini.

"Oh, we're all here. It's almost as if it's a Hogwarts reunion of sorts isn't it?" Hannah's voice shook slightly, but the witches present pretended they hadn't heard.

Luna poured glasses of pumpkin juice; Padma Patil ate an entire bowl of strawberries, her eyes never leaving a sulking George Weasley. Hermione folded her hands in her lap, listening to the bits of conversation floating around her and sighed. It was strange; she realised, to be surrounded by former housemates and classmates while there was a serial killer on the loose. Considering her brain never really slept, she flipped through the bits of information while she studied her guests.

It could be any of them really. She couldn't imagine any of them going to such lengths for some twisted convoluted form of revenge, but there was no other answer. Someone she had known from the time she was eleven years old was systematically murdering their friends, their classmates and perhaps even their relatives. It chilled her to the bone, and yet she approached it logically.

"Granger's doing it again." Blaise poked Hermione with the blunt end of his butter knife and pulled one of her curls.

"Go away Blaise, Draco and Theo are taking a nip from a flask they think they're hiding. Why don't you go join them?" Luna kissed her husband tenderly before sending him on his way. "This is the most fun I've had in ages."

"Where are Nick and Daphne?" Blaise stayed rooted, surveying the guests with a practiced eye.

"Daphne was being most disagreeable and kept trying to steal wands. He was forced to leave and drag her with him. She was literally kicking and screaming. She's most disagreeable. Go and discuss it with Draco and Theo. I'm sure between the lot of you it will turn into quite the discussion." Luna growled, finally reduced to shoving her husband until he slowly made his way across the garden.

"Draco thinks it's a woman." Hermione tapped her fingertips on the table, wishing she had a quill and a bit of parchment to jot down her thoughts.

"Oh here we go. I don't know why I bothered coming over here." Ginny rolled her eyes and walked across the lawn to sit beside Astoria. Their friendship was budding which pleased Hermione greatly.

"Tell us then!" Pansy Parkinson threw a grape, snorting with laughter when it hit Hermione's forehead. She wasn't exactly friends with Granger, but if there was another theory concerning the Hogwarts Harpy, she was all ears.

Cho Chang and Hannah Abbott sipped flutes of champagne, prepared to settle in for the long haul. After years of experience they knew Hermione Granger was nothing if not thorough.

"A woman actually makes sense. Speaking of women, where's Parvati?" Pansy Parkinson had manners which rivaled Ron Weasley's. How they weren't matched together was anyone's guess. Hermione supposed it had something to do with their genetic compatibility but Merlin she was sick of hearing about it.

"Parvati went with our parents to India. She's had a bit of a rough time since…" Padma paused, lowered her voice and leaned over the table. "She and Ernie MacMillan were in the midst of a relationship and my mum was bloody furious. Ernie, of course, being the spineless Hufflepuff that he is, sorry Hannah, disappeared. I suppose it doesn't matter, Parvati has a beautiful little boy now." Padma shrugged, quite pleased with the rapt attention.

"I'm sorry, I'm sure Pansy didn't mean anything by it…"

"Its fine, Luna. Now, what is this about a woman?" Padma loved watching Hermione's mind work. She wasn't about to allow the food falling out of Pansy's mouth distract her.

"I'm sorry but I'm starving and if you can bear Pansy eating, I'm sure you'll survive if I eat as well." Hermione savagely tore open a crisp dinner roll and shoved bits of chicken, green beans and slices of grapes between the folds and ate it quickly.

* * *

"I think Granger's hungry." Blaise looked completely revolted, yet he continued to watch the witches huddled together.

"Malfoy wore her out." Theo laughed, feeling the effects of the alcohol.

The passing of months between the friends gathering had not lessened their affection for each other. It would always be that way with them. They hadn't been what others would consider friends in Hogwarts, but as the times changed so had they. Draco Malfoy considered Blaise one of his best mates, even if he had married Luna Lovegood. Draco had never understood the attraction. He realised it didn't matter; it was obvious they loved each other and that's what really mattered. He supposed people wondered about the details of his relationship with Hermione as well, but dammed if he'd tell them a bloody thing.

"Shut it Nott, that's my wife." Draco growled, unable to contain the instantaneous anger which held him.

"How'd it happen anyway? You and Granger, I mean there had always been a bit of sexual tension and the flirting was ridiculous, but I never thought you'd actually…marry her." Theo scratched his head, his beady eyes squinting with a shrewdness Draco forgot his fellow Slytherin even had.

"Who cares Theo? The bloody Prophet's had their faces splashed all over the front page for months. I'm sick of looking at them. The Ministry is parading them about as if every bloody match will never end because look at the love of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. No offense mate, but I hate your face." Blaise conjured a bottle of Ogden's finest. They had long since abandoned glasses and the appearance of propriety.

"That's it, isn't it? I don't know how they did it, but they did, didn't they? The Ministry bound you and Granger in their Marriage Law. I can't say I understand why. The rest of us only have a five year contract, but you and her…" Theo swallowed the remainder of his thought process upon spying the deadly glower and the white knuckled fist.

"Do you really think the fucking Ministry could make me do anything I don't wish to do? Are you really attempting to cheapen my relationship and impugn my honour? Do you take me for a fucking pawn? You've insulted me and my wife, never let it happen again." Draco stood up suddenly, wavering on his feet and shoved Theo from his lawn chair.

It took every ounce of willpower Draco Malfoy possessed to keep from hexing Theo into oblivion. It didn't matter that the fucking Slytherin had guessed correctly, that wasn't what bothered him. Draco had always assumed the truth would eventually come out, but it was the laughter in Theo's eyes. As if the very thought of Draco Malfoy loving Hermione Granger was completely absurd. He wasn't capable of naming precisely why it enraged him, it simply did and he needed her. He'd always prided himself on never needing anyone; it was a sign of weakness after all, until her.

Draco's eyes scanned the tops of the crowd, sighing until he saw her. His peripheral vision picked up flashes of colour, arms waving in hello, robes swirling in fairy lights, his mother's blonde hair swaying gently yet none of it dissuaded him from reaching his wife.

* * *

"Let's just pretend for a moment. Luna if you were intent upon causing Harry pain and your mental state had degraded to the point where ethics were no longer an issue. Who would you kill?" Hermione tapped her fork on the table, eyeing the piece of apple pie until Cho slowly pushed it toward her.

"Why would I want to hurt Harry?" Luna's breezy lilting voice had never irritated Hermione as much as it had in that moment. She just wanted to tackle the godsforsaken Hogwarts Harpy case with fresh eyes.

"Because he ate the fucking Nargles, Luna. He ATE them." For a moment, Hermione thought she might have gone too far.

Luna's mouth dropped open with a silent scream of horror, her blue eyes instantly watering. Cho and Padma struggled to keep Luna from drawing her wand when she spied Harry chatting amicably with Ron and Nick.

"Nargles are innocent creatures! How could he?! It's absolutely reprehensible! How would I hurt him? I'll tell you! I wouldn't want to start too close to him, he'd be suspicious. I still want him to hurt, but I want him to wonder about it. I suppose I'd start with an acquaintance. Dean or Seamus would be a good start. It wouldn't get his attention, not really, but I'd know. It's difficult with Harry. He doesn't have a familiar, he doesn't have parents or siblings, and what does he have? Oh I know, the Weasleys are a safe bet. They are his surrogate family after all. Bill maybe, or Charlie, not Ron because he'd have to be one of the last victims, though he does have the Dursleys. I'm not sure if that would affect him or not but I'm unstable so fuckit. I'm a woman so I'd never touch a hair on Teddy's head, but I wouldn't be against killing you, Hermione or even your parents since Harry has met them, then Ron until finally Harry Potter himself." Luna Zabini reclined upon her white chair, quite pleased with herself and folded her hands lightly in her lap with a smile.

The stunned silence which followed caused the tiny hairs on the back of Hermione's neck to rise. Luna's Nargle induced theory was eerily accurate and the strange witch hadn't the slightest clue. Hermione knew Luna was quite intelligent and if she could formulate a killing spree off the top of her head, anything was possible. She studied the faces of the witches around her, wondering how much she actually knew these women. She never could have imagined Luna had a violent streak; she had simply been attempting to provoke the thought process.

Padma Patil looked as ill as she felt and even Pansy had stopped shoveling treacle tart into her mouth, for which they were all ever so grateful. Cho Chang's hands shook and she grasped her goblet of water with both hands, a light sheen of sweat decorated her forehead and it looked as though there were tears on her cheeks. Hannah's hands had flown to her mouth and her head shook side to side.

"Uhm…Hermione? Why uh why is Luna discussing my demise?" Harry Potter had wandered across the garden with a smile which quickly fell as he overheard the many ways Luna had thought to desecrate his life.

Luna's cheeks burned brightly and Harry knew it wasn't from embarrassment. She stood up so quickly he was forced to retreat. He risked a glance behind the infuriated witch and spied Hermione laughing at him. Luna reached into the one of the many pockets of her multicoloured, multi-tiered skirt and removed her wand. She shook it in his face and Harry simply stared, his green eyes following the bounce of her wand, speechless.

"You ate the fucking Nargles, Harry. You ate them!"


	18. September's Secrets

**AN: Alright my lovelies...the next chapter is not remotely close to completed, perhaps by the end of the weekend if I don't wind up distracted...I make no guarantees. I heart the reception, you guys rock. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 18 – September's Secrets

* * *

Hermione stretched her hands over her head and yawned, enjoying the late morning sunlight peaking through the heavy tapestries hanging around the enormous four poster bed. She hadn't expected to wake wrapped in her husband's arms and it was a pleasant surprise. His face was buried in her curls as it often was when she woke first. She adored his inability to stay away from her even in his sleep. She stroked his cheek, listening to the puffs of air filling the silence. She wouldn't qualify the sound as a snore exactly, however it was definitely a heavy breath and she knew he'd balk at the thought of being less than perfect. Draco twitched slightly, jerking away from her touch which left her just enough room to slip out of bed without disturbing him.

Her toes curled instinctively upon touching the cool floor. While she quietly bustled about their bedroom, she wondered where summer had gone. She swore it had only been just yesterday when their garden was filled with their friends. However, based on the sudden crispness in the air, she knew it wasn't so. Hermione decided it didn't matter. She had a secret, a deliciously wonderful secret.

The sound of feet thundering up the stairs broke her out of her reverie. Hermione quickly threw on a pair of faded jeans and Draco's old Quidditch jersey before hurrying down the stairs. She could hear the low timbre of voices while she set the kettle on the cooker and waited for Harry and Nick to beg her for a spot of tea.

"Pancakes and waffles are the same."

"No they ain't. They're totally different! Waffles are crisp and golden wit those lil holes all filled wit syrup. Pancakes are round and mushy."

"Waffles are round as well!" Hermione shook her head listening to Harry defend the honour of pancakes.

"Waffles can be square! There are deese frozen ones and they ain't as good as Hermione's but they're aiight in a pinch."

"They taste the same."

"They don't!"

Harry and Nick burst into the kitchen obviously disgruntled with each other. They glowered, sitting at the breakfast nook without even tossing a greeting in Hermione's direction.

"I'm not even going to bother to ask what you'd like for breakfast." Hermione placed a steaming cup of tea in front of Harry and a piping mug of coffee before Nick.

They remained silent, staring into the rising steam. Hermione, definitely not having the patience for such theatrics smacked them both about the backs of their heads before retreating to the cooker.

"She's violent."

"It's your fault Potter."

"How is it my bloody fault?!"

"Hermione obviously has a sophisticated palette and the very suggestion that pancakes are superior to waffles insulted her delicate sensibilities." Harry Potter burst into laughter. Only Nick Moretti could put on such an abysmal British accent while simultaneously sound so pompous.

Hermione managed to tune out their childish bickering, focusing on her delicious secret. She could barely believe it when Gregory Goyle had pulled her aside during the outlandish dinner party. She had never held an actual conversation with him before, but he seemed so sincere, contrite even, she couldn't resist giving him a few moments of her time.

"_Uh, Granger, I mean Mrs. Malfoy? I…" Gregory Goyle wasn't sure if it was proper to look her in the eye or stare at the trampled grass beneath her feet. He'd never spoken civility to her or about her in all his days. _

_It was Ginny's fault. She was the one that convinced him to speak with her. He'd diligently tried to change his image after the war. He'd studied hard and made notable donations to various charities all in the name of unity. He'd been a follower his entire life and it wasn't until he discovered an affinity and love for Charms that he finally came into his own._

_He wasn't stupid. He wasn't useless. He wasn't a follower, not anymore. _

"_Goyle? Oh, I'm sorry. Malfoy has this terrible habit of referring to everyone by their surnames and I supposed its rubbed off a bit. Is something wrong? Is Ginny…"_

"_No, everything's fine. It's simply, well, Ginny mentioned." Greg sighed, frustrated with his inability to formulate coherent thought. Hermione Gran er Malfoy, intimidated him and he wasn't remiss to admit it._

"_No need to be so nervous. This is a party of some sort isn't it then?" Hermione smiled at him. The astonishment on his face almost made her laugh, but she didn't wish to frighten the poor boy._

"_Listen, Ginny told me in confidence, but I can help. Flitwick, I've been apprenticing with him, I'm sure you knew. You're Hermione Granger uh Malfoy, you've always known everything. Regardless, I found some notes that I thought would interest you." Greg attempted to smile, truly he did, but it made his face feel strange and he decided he didn't care for it._

_Hermione studied his dark eyes, his close cropped hair and even his stance before answering him. She didn't know why Gregory Goyle would be remotely interested in helping with her anything, but her curiosity got the best of her, as it oftentimes did._

"_Notes? What sort of notes? Why would you think they'd interest me?" Hermione allowed Greg to lead her to the small patch of stone beside the house, away from prying eyes._

"_Flitwick says I'm the best apprentice he's ever had. I don't know if that's true or not, but no matter. I shouldn't be telling you this, but I'm hoping I can count on your discretion. There's an antechamber to the Charms classroom, did you know that? I was struggling with the desk drawer and well I found some parchment stuck to the underside of the drawer. They were Dumbledore's notes on a particularly difficult Memory Charm." Hermione gasped, grabbing his forearm roughly, unable to hope against hope. "Your name was in the margin. I've been practicing it, in secret and it's definitely complicated…"_

"_You could do it? I mean if you had the proper subjects?" Greg had to admit he was a bit afraid of her. It was the intensity in her eyes, not to mention the iron grip on his arm. He didn't want to disappoint her._

"_Do you have subjects? The Ministry has allowed me to practice on some prisoners in Azakan, top secret of course. They don't want their secrets on the front page of the Prophet, but I avoid it while I can. Doesn't feel right." Gregory Goyle squared his shoulders, completely prepared for Hermione Malfoy's tongue lashing, yet it didn't come._

"_You…really have changed, haven't you Greg?" Hermione released her hold on his forearm and patted it awkwardly, taking in the new man before her._

"_I…I've done my best." He flushed slightly with embarrassment and stared at the uneven paving stoves._

"_I can't say I condone using prisoners for experiments, but there really isn't any other option. I suppose if it's performed incorrectly it could have dire consequences. Have you managed to…" Her overactive brain ceased functioning before she was able to inundate him with questions. It wasn't her place to call his expertise into question no matter how much she wished to do so._

"_I've been working on it for months. I haven't desecrated anyone's memories as of yet. In fact, the main complaint has been remembering too much. I wasn't aware such a thing was possible. If it helps ease your mind about it…it worked quite well on Gilderoy Lockhart, if you remember him, he was quite a mess." Hermione almost collapsed. It was Gregory Goyle's burly arms which kept her on her feet._

"_Gregory Goyle, you are the most wonderful man I've ever known." She wavered on her feet but refused to fall. Her stubborn nature remained with her in all things, as it had always done. _

_Hermione Malfoy reached up, on the tips of her toes, flung her arms around Greg's neck and kissed his cheek._

"_You've done it. I can't believe it. Of course now it's a matter of finding my parents, but I can do that. I have a place to start and I'm sure the Minister would be willing to lend some Aurors to the cause. I mean, I'm not one to use my name to get what I want, but these are my parents. Surely even the Minister can understand how important they are to me." Greg nodded without understanding and watched the exuberant witch scurry away._

"She's humming, why is she doing that?" Nick shoveled yet another deliciously light yet crisp waffle into his mouth, refusing to wipe the syrup from his chin.

"She's Hermione, when she has a secret she hums, it's what she does." Harry groaned at the sensation of his pancakes melting on his tongue.

"You said when she's in doubt she goes to the library. Which is it?"

"Both. You've ruined my plans to toss flour all over my bloody kitchen and shag my wi…"

"Malfoy, please stop talking, we're eating for Godric's sake." Harry averted his eyes from a bare chested Draco Malfoy, concentrating on his morning meal.

"If you ever ate at your own bloody home, I could eat Ne.."

"I'm going to be sick. Sweet Merlin Malfoy, do you ever think of anything other than shagging?"

"I wasn't speaking of shagging just then, was I? I believe I was referring to…"

"I hate you."

"Good. Get out." Draco Malfoy wiggled his eyebrows and sauntered across the kitchen, impatient for his morning kiss.

Hermione ignored the exchange between Harry and Draco, used to their morning antics. She smiled to herself while flipping pancakes, waiting to feel the familiar muscular arms encircle her waist and the soft lips kiss the side of her throat. It had become part of their sporadic routine whenever Draco had a late start and she thrived on it.

"You're terrible." She murmured against the cheek pressed to hers, a smile dancing on the corners of her lips.

"Perhaps, but you love me anyway." Draco spun her around, ignoring the batter which flicked across his arm and kissed her. He often lost himself in her and this morning was no different. After a few moments of a heated snog which ended with his hand upon her breast and a rumble in his chest, the pointed coughing forced him to pull away.

"I think I hate it when they interrupt what could have been a most delectable morning." Hermione sighed, a most disgruntled sigh against the smooth expanse of his chest.

"Me too, Nee. Let's block the Floo. Now, tell me your secret." Draco kissed her forehead with a wink, loving the way her eyes sparkled with excitement.

"Oi, Hermione, you're not pregnant are you? That'd be a fantastic secret, wouldn't it Nick?" Nick, being the wonderful friend he was, smacked Harry in the head with a roll of his eyes.

"D'ya really think she'd share a secret like dat with us, Harry? Dat's private. You ain't so smawt sometimes yeah?" Nick shrugged his shoulders in apology even as he grabbed Harry by the ear to drag him down to the Travel Room.

Hermione hated having to dash the hopeful look shining in Draco's eyes, but it was necessary for the moment.

"Malfoy, when I am, you'll know and it won't be over breakfast with Harry and Nick. I found my parents. Well, I didn't exactly find them but they've been found. Now before you get angry, Gregory has been helping me quite a bit. He's a wonderful man, I'm so glad he was paired with Ginny. She deserves someone like him. I can see you glowering at me. Stop it. He's the Charms apprentice under Flitwick and he…"

Draco's teeth grinded together as he listened to his wife prattle on about how wonderful fucking Gregory Goyle happened to be. It's not that he wasn't interested in what she was saying, he was, it was a matter of…well jealously quite frankly. He consistently wanted to be her knight in shining armor, at least that's what he believed the blithering idiots in Muggle fairytales were, but she didn't need to be rescued. Hermione Malfoy was quite capable of saving herself and it drove him mad.

"Malfoy, you're not even listening."

"I bloody well heard you. Goyle is a wonderful fantastic human being and you've managed to convince Shacklebolt to fetch your parents. I suspect you're only informing me because Goyle's been successful with the Memory Charm and that you'll be packing a bag to…"

"No, Malfoy, stop. I'm not…I'm not going. I'm not saying I didn't try, I did, but Shacklebolt said he couldn't spare the number of Aurors my husband would deem necessary to allow me to accompany them to Australia." Draco quickly covered his smile. It wouldn't do to mock her obvious dejection, even if he was completely elated.

"I suppose you would consider it completely obnoxious if I were to say something along the lines of thank Merlin?" He could she was attempting to be angry with him; the gentle uplift which twitched the corner of her mouth belied her intent.

"I want you to lead the team. I…I know you left your job because of what happened to me and to a certain extent I understand it, I do and I even appreciate it because I don't have to worry about you being blown up. I want to retrieve my parents. I want to be there when Gregory restores their memories, even if they hate me for it, but I can't. I could argue with the Minister, but he wouldn't relent without me returning and…. I'm not returning to my job, I don't care how much Shacklebolt and Gringotts beg. I'd rather do something with Magical Creatures or even accept Blaise's offer to work in the restaurant."

Draco smirked, unable to stop himself. He held her close, memorising the way she fit against him. He despised the way moments would race through his mind's eye. He could barely draw a breath as the feelings of seeing her battered, broken and bleeding replayed. He hadn't known he loved her until that moment and often he kicked himself for not seeing the signs. Even as he held her in his arms, smoothing her riotous curls he cursed himself.

"Nee." Hermione stiffened. She knew that tone. He didn't use it often, she'd give him that but when he did, it always pulled her heartstrings more than she thought it should.

"Malfoy…Draco, please. Shacklebolt is assembling a special team and you know what that means. He's going to put Harry in charge and I love Harry, I do but these are my parents. I haven't seen them since…since the war and Harry's a good Auror, but he's…irrational and spontaneous and he never listens. You know he doesn't! He's still obsessed with bringing Molly in for questioning and we all know how ridiculous that is, but not Harry. He hasn't found a bit of evidence to support his theory and yet he won't let it go. He's like a rabid dog with a bone." Hermione sobbed into his chest and the passing thought of wishing he was wearing a shirt crossed his mind as his grip tightened around her.

"Are you absolutely certain you know where they are? You know I detest walking into a situation without all the pertinent information. You're begging me to take point, so I'm assuming you've already convinced Shacklebolt." Draco sighed, his long fingers languidly stroking his wife's back, toying with her curls and grasping the delicious curve of her bum.

Hermione inhaled the fresh scent of his skin, tears continuing to drip from her toffee eyes even as she gazed upon the chiseled jaw of her husband. She hadn't meant to cry. She hadn't meant to be so completely overcome with emotion, but it wasn't over something as frivolous as pancakes, it was her parents. She missed them desperately and even if they never forgave her for what she had done, she needed the chance to tell them she was sorry. She needed to look into her mother's eyes and listen to her father sigh in discontentment. She wanted to introduce them to her husband and hear them tell her how proud they are of her for the life she's managed to build despite opposition.

"I had a general idea. I realised I should have been more specific when I suggested Australia, but that's neither here nor there. Shacklebolt sent a reconnaissance team to New South Wales. It was Nick's idea actually. He thought perhaps remnants of England lingered because while memories can be erased it's much harder to erase the emotional connection. Kingsley says they reside in Liverpool, but I'm quite certain he's not telling me everything…wait, are you actually considering doing this for me?" Hermione was furiously wiping the tears from her cheeks, afraid to hope against hope.

She knew she was almost asking the impossible, but there were no other options, not for her. This was the man who had cradled her gently in his arms when she went against his better judgement in her stubbornness. This was the man who had allowed her to cry and to heal in whatever manner she chose without judging her or pressing her. This was the man who held her in his arms each evening whispering words of love against her brow. This was the man who had gifted her the most beautiful snow globe she had ever seen, with a beautiful single worded inscription which made her burst into tears. He was the man who she knew secretly salivated for a child yet when she didn't wish to discuss it, let the matter drop. She trusted him with her life therefore it was without a second thought she envisioned him bringing her parents back to her.

"I don't want to go back into the field. I've told you this, but this is a special circumstance. Kingsley requested me for a special duty assignment. It seems my expertise was demanded and he wasn't apt to refuse the demand. I was planning on discussing it with you over breakfast but Scarhead and the American interrupted as usual. Kingsley's offered me a desk job when all this is said and done. He'd like me to take over the Trainees and I'm not against it. It's safer I suppose, though if the Trainees are anything like Longbottom in first year, I'm truly fucked." Draco studied the lines etched into her forehead and the sagging relief evident in her shoulders and smiled.

"You're joking. You're not joking! Kingsley really…and you're…oh my gods!" He couldn't help but laugh at her antics. It amused him greatly whenever she was overwhelmed and excited she never finished a single sentence. She was half a minute away from dancing about the kitchen and she hadn't the slightest idea.

"Calm down love, have a bit of pumpkin juice." Draco released his bouncing wife to slide into the corner of the breakfast nook. He pulled over a plate of waffles, thankful for the invention of warming charms and tucked in.

"We haven't any pumpkin juice. It smelled off." Hermione shrugged and poured them large glasses of orange juice, wrinkling her nose at the pulp.

"Nee…I just had bloody Dink bring it here from the Manor yesterday. I'm sure it was fine. I don't understand your obsession with tossing perfectly good pumpkin juice in the bin." Draco grumbled piling waffles and bacon on Hermione's empty plate.

"Draco stop it, I can't possibly eat all that. I just wish to have my juice and perhaps a spot of toast." Draco growled at her which she took to mean he was displeased, but she wasn't about to force herself to eat when her stomach was being most disagreeable. "Now, I'm assuming Kingsley is planning on debriefing all the members of the team. The question really is whether he's going to allow you to hand pick the Aurors or whether he'll simply demand you preside over those who have already been chosen. I don't know about you but…"

"What the bloody hell is this?" Harry Potter, green eyes blazing, dark hair askew, stumbled into the kitchen of Forest Lake waving a crumpled piece of parchment angrily. "I talked to Shacklebolt. Do you know what he said? Of course you do! He said, Hermione, that you bloody requested Malfoy. Bloody Malfoy? Really? We've been best mates since we were kids and when it comes time to retrieve your parents you ask for Malfoy to lead the team?"

"Potter's knickers are in a twist, love." Hermione knew Draco was attempting to make light of the situation, but his eyes told a different story.

He had worked side by side with Harry Potter for years. They were fine tuned to each other's nuances, predicted each other's moves and finished each other's sentences. He had been present when Harry had married his best friend; therefore Harry's words hurt more than he let on. Hermione could see it, feel it even and he was thankful for her. He didn't need to explain himself. He simply left the room without a word. Draco didn't think it would bode well for him to lose his temper. Hermione had softened him and he welcomed the change. He supposed when it came down to it, as far as he thought he had come, when Harry Potter lost his temper and felt he wasn't receiving his due, Draco Malfoy would always be 'bloody Malfoy' and it hurt more than he was willing to admit.

He refused to revert to the crutch of his childhood. He wasn't going to hex the bastard or even stomp up the stairs demanding his anger be acknowledged. Instead, he padded down the short corridor and sat upon the stairs. Draco's decision was two-fold, being the Slytherin he is, he needed to step away from Potter before he did something he might regret and he wished to eavesdrop.

"Hermione, you're not even saying anything!" Draco imagined Harry to be pacing, yanking on his stupid hair, waving his stupid wand.

"What is it you'd like me to say Harry? Perhaps you should tell me so I get it just right. Wouldn't wish to unduly upset the great Harry Potter now would it? Apparently he takes a bit of offense to not getting his way." Draco smirked and he bet himself that Potter hadn't the slightest clue Hermione was seconds away from the seething anger he knew quite well.

"You bloody well know what I want you to say! I want you to tell Kingsley that there's no one you'd rather head the team to bring back your parents than Harry Potter!"

"Why?" Hermione tapped the side of her orange juice glass, watching the pulp sink to the bottom, darkening the juice to a muted sunset. She was resisting the urge to slap her friend.

She was trying to understand Harry's upset, but it was difficult when he insisted on ranting like a loon. Hermione understood Harry's protective nature, she'd been dealing it since she was a child, but this was different. It was almost as if he were jealous, which was ridiculous. She supposed he was used to being the hero and here was ample opportunity to make his friend whole and she assumed he felt as though it was his right. It wasn't, but she couldn't help but love him for the thought.

"What do you mean why? Hermione! Are you saying you don't trust me? Are you really saying that trust Malfoy more than you trust me? I mean…after everything we've been through together…I…"

"Shut up, Harry." Hermione dropped her head to the table wishing Draco hadn't left. "It isn't about you."

"What do you mean it isn't about me?! Of course it is. You're choosing Mal…"

"My husband. I'm asking my husband to retrieve my parents because he's my family." Hermione sighed and closed her eyes.

She knew she had hurt him. It hadn't been her intention. Harry was like her family. He was the closest thing she had while in absence of family, but he wouldn't understand. Not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. He didn't have parents, through no fault of his own and so he had desperately clung to his friends. She didn't fault him for that, she couldn't, yet at the same time she needed him to understand.

"Nee, you're not looking well. Would you consider resting in the sitting room while I have a word with Potter? I promise we'll behave." Draco silently reentered the kitchen to squat beside his wife.

He had heard the whisper of a sob in her words, which plucked at his heart strings. Draco knew Harry hadn't picked up the subtlety but he didn't blame the man. Learning about Hermione was an art form and it took patience and observation. Harry knew Hermione well, but the time of him knowing her better than she knew herself was gone. They weren't children any longer and it was time to let go.

Draco picked Hermione up easily, ignoring her garbled protests. He was proud of himself as he resisted the urge to bump into Harry on his way to the sitting room. He deposited Hermione gently onto the butter cream sofa and kissed her forehead.

"Baby, I love you." Hermione curled into a ball on the sofa, her curls falling into her face as her eyes closed. Draco couldn't remember a time when he'd seen her so tired. He assumed the entire situation was physically and emotionally tolling for her. He couldn't even imagine being in her position, then or now. Draco covered her with a light caftan and returned to an angry Potter.

"What the hell Malfoy?" Harry shoved the taller man, irked he was reduced to physical violence.

Draco, to his credit did not respond. Instead he sidestepped the angry scar headed wizard and perched on the edge of the kitchen counter. He was not the least bit surprised to see Harry's wand drawn and pointed at his chest.

"When you're done posturing and prepared to listen, by all means, let me know yea?" Draco waited until Harry began lowering his wand before padding into the kitchen and pouring himself a mug of coffee.

He hadn't completely embraced the idea of Muggle appliances, but the coffee maker was a bloody brilliant invention and he adored it. He tugged on the drawstrings of his lounge pants, completely at ease. Harry on the other hand, was channeling his inner Weasley as the state of his rosy cheeks would attest. He slouched onto a barstool, his fingers stroking the smooth wood of his wand. He glared at the mug of coffee Draco set before him refusing to speak.

"Imagine James was in grave danger and in order to keep him safe, to save his life even, you were forced to send him into hiding. You couldn't go with him of course, that would defeat the purpose. You didn't want to, not really and the little voice in your head disagreed with your decision. It said you were being rash and the danger wouldn't justify your actions. Would you still do it Potter?" Harry's eyes narrowed with suspicion, yet he was curious.

Harry was sure there was a nefarious plot afoot, a trick even, and yet he knew Draco Malfoy. They hadn't been partners without reason. Harry sighed and contemplated Malfoy's words before his head began to nod.

"Yeah, I would because there are no limits when it comes to the lives of your family, but Malfoy…this…"

"Now, say the danger has passed and you're ready to go and collect your son, but you can't…"

"WHY? Why can't I collect him? I should be there. It's my fault he was sent away in the first place." Draco covered his grin with a quick sip of his coffee.

"Potter, pay attention. You can't bloody go because…you've been injured. Your leg fell off, your scar grew arms and tried to bloody strangle you, it doesn't matter. You can't go. Now, this is your son, your only son. If you had to send someone in your place, who would you send?"

"Stori, no question. She's my wife and…well shit." Draco chuckled as the light finally lit Harry Potter's eyes in the moments before his head thumped the counter. "This has nothing to do with me. I'm an idiot."

"Well I'm most certainly not going to argue with you."

* * *

"Why must we go to all these bloody weddings?" Draco whined, as he was apt to do when forced into situations he absolutely wanted no part.

Hermione ignored him, as she was apt to do when these situations arose. She was refreshed from her nap and after listening to Harry's bumbling apology she was in good sorts.

"Malfoy, these people are our friends. It simply won't do to not attend. George and Tracey's wedding was supposed to be tomorrow, but considering…well…uhm" Hermione chewed the corner of her lip while attempting to express the situation delicately.

"Granger, love, let's just be honest alright then? George and Tracey aren't fulfilling their Ministry contract due to the fact he knocked up Padma. I find that quite hilarious, I didn't know the Weasley had it in him. Apparently one eared Weasley is genetically compatible with whomsoever he sticks his cock in. Shacklebolt is bloody up in arms; did you really think I didn't know?" Draco buttoned his navy blue shirt, wishing Hermione was still wrapped in the fluffy towel she had donned after their shower.

"What happens to Tracey now? That's the real question I suppose. Do they deem her ineligible?" Hermione shimmied into a light blue sundress with a sigh.

"Apparently the lists are compiled in the deep recesses of the Ministry. Tracey wound up with some Ravenclaw, Davies I think his name is. Her compatibility level with Davis isn't quite as high as it was with the Weasley but it's passable. It works out well for them. Patil was set for Davies I believe and while Shacklebolt was quite put out, he really couldn't put up too much of a fuss. The witch is pregnant and that's apparently the entire point of the Marriage Law." Slowly, he stalked his wife until he was mere inches from her and pulled her roughly into his arms.

"You scared me, bastard. Anyway, we've got the Bulstrode-Weasley wedding tomorrow morning and the Abbott-Nott wedding in the evening. We're going to be exhausted. The day after, we've got Parkinson-Longbottom and I'm not looking forward to that at all. You're leaving on Monday so…"

"Sunday night love."

"Ugh, that's worse. You don't get the joy of attending the Weasley-Goyle wedding you right bastard. Have you picked your team yet? Do you have an extraction plan? What if they don't believe you or they try to…"

"Nee, please remember to breathe. I could give a shit about the weddings. I'll go with you because I appreciate my bollocks remaining attached to my body. I don't care who is marrying whom. Of course I have a team. I'm actually just going with Potter's team. I know them. I've worked with them and I trust them." Hermione ran her fingers up his chest on the pretense of smoothing the nonexistent wrinkles.

"Are you taking Cleaners? Or are you just taking Aurors and an Investigator?" He heard the tremor of uncertainty in her voice. He knew she was afraid, it was natural. She hadn't seen her parents in years and if things went according to plan, she'd be spending her birthday with them.

Draco had read the file on her parents so many times he had memorized almost every detail. He'd kept it hidden in a drawer of the desk in his study. It wasn't that he was against sharing information with his wife, it was a favourite pastime of his; however some of the things in the file were quite sensitive in nature. He didn't know how he would tell her. It would be difficult, but if she found out from someone else, she'd never forgive him.

"You're quite an interfering witch aren't you? You know I'm not supposed to tell you. I mean, I will but you should know I'm breaking the rules you love so well." Draco kissed her forehead quickly before continuing. "I'm never repeating this so pay attention. I'm taking the team Potter and I have spent the past four years or so training to our specifications. I realise there's not necessarily a need for all the members of the team, but they're trained well and they're adaptable. Nott for instance, yes he's a Cleaner but he'd prefer to be an Investigator like Pansy, so he's spent his down time voraciously reading. Chang is also a Cleaner but her interest truly lies in being a Post-Mortem Healer and Patil has been taking her under her wing which works out really well for me. I'm obviously not taking Patil due to her condition. How strange would it be if she had a brown ginger? Anyway, Pansy is postponing her honeymoon since the only other qualified Investigator is Pucey and I can't bloody stand him. Quite honestly I'd prefer if I had two of everything but…" Draco shrugged, slightly disgruntled.

"Like Noah? Two by two into the ark?" Hermione laughed at her own little joke, imaging the Ministry officials marching by twos.

"Noah who? Do we know a Noah? Why does he have an ark?"

"He was a Muggle, Malfoy…from the Holy Bible. No? Well, that's alright I suppose. I suppose it'll fall on me to teach our children such things." Draco instantly perked up.

He had seen Hermione and Luna whispering furiously in the past weeks and while his curiosity was piqued, he didn't wish to pry. It was utterly and completely a lie, he wished nothing more than to pry but he did not wish to be on the wrong end of his wife's wand. Draco had considered approaching Luna, but after she had shrieked at Harry Potter during their impromptu dinner party about Nargles, he decided it would be best to leave things as they are.

"Well Nee, when are we having these children who will need to be educated in all things Muggle?" He teased her, as was his habit, before he crossed the room to inspect his wardrobe. He detested packing but Nee had convinced him it was better to finish it early rather than leave it until the last moment.

"April." Hermione felt her throat vibrate as she swallowed hard against the nerves threatening to erupt in a most spectacular fashion.

She couldn't believe she allowed herself to be intimidated by Luna Zabini. It wasn't enough she had to pry a blazing angry Luna off a confused and slightly terrified Harry Potter in the middle of her dinner party. Hermione had tried to explain it was a hypothetical scenario, but Luna refused to hear of it. She still maintained Harry was a Nargle murdering bastard and refused to speak to him.

It was later, weeks later when Luna dragged Hermione to the loo that it all began.

"_Luna, are you alright? You seem a bit out of sorts…" Hermione wet a cloth and wiped down Luna's flushed cheeks. _

_Luna Lovegood Zabini stared into the looking glass, allowing Hermione to fuss over her. It had been a long time, a very long time since someone had cared enough about her to fuss over her. She hadn't had the joy of having a mother. She hadn't felt the warmth of a mother's embrace, the kisses upon the forehead and the murmured 'it's all rights' since she was a small child. Luna sighed upon feeling Hermione's cool palm on her cheeks and leaned into her._

"_Blaise loves me. I mean, he really loves me. I've seen the look. I know most people don't understand our relationship, but I like to think they're simply close minded individuals. He has a tendency to be quite boisterous but he's really quite sweet. You wouldn't think it, but he is. I overheard him speaking with Draco and Blaise wants to take me on some sort of Safari to search for some rare magical creatures. I can't imagine taking a holiday for an extended period of time with how busy things have been at St. Mungos, but the thought is lovely." Hermione hopped onto the counter, studying the contours of Luna's face._

"_Secretly I believe all Slytherins have a bit of sweetness in them. Not to worry, it'll remain a secret between us girls." _

"_Blaise wants to start a family. I keep telling him we're too young. He's got the restaurant and I'm practically run ragged with overnights. It's completely impractical, isn't it?" Luna was verging on hysteria, which worried Hermione slightly. As strange as the blonde was, she had always maintained such a cool exterior; Hermione had difficulty believing hysteria was in her wheelhouse._

"_I think we're more alike than I wanted to admit, Luna. We're adults now and perhaps we always were. I don't think it's possible to come through a war without growing up too soon. We all did. I suppose you're just as scared as I am."_

"_I'm not like you. I mean, I'm not strong like you. I'm strong in my own way and I take everything in stride but I don't face the world head on and I don't want too. I lost my mum when I was young, long before I ever got my Hogwarts letter. I don't know how to be a mum and what if I do it all wrong? What if something happens and I wind up like my mum and my child…"_

"_Luna, no, stop. I wouldn't have gotten through the emotional turmoil of my accident if it weren't for you. You're perfectly suited to Healing and if you were to have a child you'd be the best mum. You'd teach your daughter all about the importance of Nargles and make sure they never ever ate them. She would be loved so much. You'd never intentionally put yourself in harm's way. There's no need for such things anymore, the war is over." Hermione hadn't realised she had grasped Luna's hands tightly with her own, a desperate pleading sort of intonation to her voice. _

_Luna stared at their reflection, taking in their red rimmed eyes and the dried tears upon their cheeks before expelling her held breath. She straightened her posture and lifted her chin with defiance, forcing the last vestiges of fear from her watery blue eyes. She patted Hermione's cheek gently and smiled._

"_I suppose we'll embark upon this particular journey together." Hermione quirked her head, curious yet trusting of Luna's abrupt change in demeanor. _

_Luna plucked her wand from the front pocket of her full skirt, cautiously waving it between them. The magic gently flowing in the small quarters was invigorating and Hermione's skin tingled. When the burst of psychedelic colours swirled around them, Hermione expelled a short puff of disbelief amidst Luna's light laughter._

"_Don't even think of questioning my expertise Hermione. I can see the thoughts swirling about in that overworked brain of yours. I'm off to make my husband a very happy man. I suppose he'll be completely insufferable and demand I quit my job." Luna scrunched her shoulders, her eyes shining as if she didn't mind the fuss in the least. Hermione's mouth gaped open, her breaths short and harried until Luna poked her chest. "You on the other hand, have a preference for secrets. I won't spoil it for you, but you're incredibly stubborn. Always have been really, I don't know how Harry and Ron managed to put up with you. Two weeks, that's as long as I'll wait. After that I'll send a delicious Howler right to your home and scream it about like the loon everyone says I am." Luna bestowed a sweet quick kiss on Hermione's cheek and hurried from the loo._

Hermione blinked, taking a small step backward, her shoulders held still in large pale hands. Draco had crossed the room so quickly Hermione hadn't a moment to formulate the next thought. The intensity in his grey eyes constricted the breaths trapped beneath her ribs.

"That's not funny Nee." His strangled whisper barely broke the silence between them. Draco roughly shoved Hermione's hair off her face, forcing her to keep eye contact. "Why would you do that Nee? I can't…you…"

"I'm not joking. I wouldn't do that, not about this…not after everything." She was on the verge of tears; even Draco could see the obvious signs.

"Y-you're not joking. Y-you're serious. You mean…you…I…we." Draco ceased his sputtering, his hands dropping from her face as they were once more bathed in silence.

Hermione supposed she shouldn't have been so flippant, but trying to find the best moment to tell Draco amidst all the plans with her parents was much more difficult than she imagined. The flurry of Ministry weddings wasn't making things any easier. They were hard pressed to find a few scant moments alone these days. Hermione sighed, cursing herself for her spontaneity.

"Are you angry?"

"Are you sure?" Hermione caught the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. They shared a small smile upon speaking in unison, their words garbled together, overlapping in such a way they were unable to be properly understood.

Draco waved his hand, indicating Hermione should speak. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the clench of his fist and even in his silent but laboured breaths. Hermione was sure he could see her heart pounding out of her chest.

"Luna," She started slowly, carefully, her hands lightly trembling, "I didn't even suspect it. We were having a moment, a bonding moment if you will and she cast…a spell and here we are."

"The pumpkin juice." Draco sighed heavily in understanding, his fingers running through his unruly hair before stroking the pale stubble on his chin.

Hermione climbed into their four poster bed, suddenly incredibly tired. She didn't recline upon the plethora of pillows; instead she sat in the middle, waiting for Draco to process the information. She watched his head turn to and fro, his brows furrow and even mumblings under his breath before he finally spun to stare at her.

"Draco?" He was staring through her, which frightened her slightly.

She tried to patient, but it was difficult. Hermione stifled a yawn, which snapped Draco back to the present. She observed his Adam's apple bobbing, his tentative steps padding across the plush carpet and his starry gaze. Draco slowly climbed onto the bed. His thumbs wiped away the streaks of dried tears on her cheeks, his fingers tangled in her curls. He dropped his head to hers, silently, their breaths the only sound. He kissed her so gently, if she hadn't witnessed his lips descending on hers, she would have thought it was a dream.

"It's terrible timing, I know but…"

"Shhh love, it's alright. I don't care about timing…just let me savor this." Hermione fell back onto the mountain of plush pillows, dragging Draco down with her.

She giggled when he collapsed due to her unexpected maneuver and practically leapt from the bed. Hermione snagged his hand before he was out of range, giving him a bit of a yank. He fell hard onto his side, stunned. His mouth kept opening and closing but nary a word was released.

Hermione was slightly frustrated with his reaction. She expected shouts of jubilation which segued into a rather heated snogging session. Instead, Draco stared at her, almost in awe, his eyes never lingering in one place for too long until they settled on the slight round of her abdomen. He had always found a certain delight that Hermione Granger, the Gryffindor Princess, the brightest witch of the bloody ages, was not perfect.

She hadn't noticed her blouse had ridden up and settled on her ribs until she followed his gaze. Hermione huffed loudly, tossed her arms over her head and closed her eyes. If he was determined to remain silent, then she was determined to nap. Hermione could feel the bed sinking as Draco adjusted his position. She could feel the gentle exhale of his breath beside her, until finally his cool palm danced down the front of her blouse to settle just below her navel.

"April?" The breath of his whisper tickled her skin and she flinched with the tiniest hint of a smile.

"If everything goes according to plan…yes, April." Draco sighed once more, resting his head upon her breast, his fingertips strumming her skin.

"I don't want to leave you now, Nee." Hermione rolled her eyes, expecting such theatrics. She completely understood his worry, but at the same time, she wished her parents to return. "What if something happens while I'm gone? I don't think I could bear it if…"

"You're going. You promised." Draco pretended he was unaware of the hard edge to her voice. He covered her body with his own, balancing himself on his elbows, even as she attempted to pull him down. "Stop, you're going to smush it." He struggled against her until she broke into peals of laughter.

"Malfoy, it's barely the size of a bogey, you can't bloody smush it." She laughed again and yanked his lips to hers.

"How would you know? It's not as if we've done this before!" Draco finally succumbed to the screaming of his ligaments and fell to his side, pulling Hermione into his chest. Hermione tossed her leg over his hip, reveling in the closeness.

"I've already arranged it with Luna. She's going to stay with me while you're away. I shouldn't be telling you this, but she's expecting as well. Considering she's a Healer as well as a potential mother, she'll be more attuned to my needs. I've already ordered Harry to bring his cell phone and I know you detest yours but…"

"You're really going to insist I go, aren't you?" Draco's hand sat comfortably in the gentle curve of her waist while he resisted the urge to ravish her.

"I'm not going to force you to do something you don't wish to do, not that I believe I have that sort of power over you regardless. I'm simply going to ask my husband, who is a very accomplished Auror, to escort Gregory Goyle to New South Wales so that he may perform a very complicated, powerful Charm to return my parents to me. Now if he chooses to remain home and disappoint his pregnant wife, well that's his decision I suppose." Hermione smiled sweetly and kissed his brow.

"No wonder Potter and Weaselbee bowed to your every command. You're bloody terrifying."

"Does this mean…"

"Yes, pregnant wife of mine, oh I like saying that, I'll go. I shan't like it, but I'll do it. Now I'm going to send a few owls and then I plan on shagging you until you can't move." Draco bound from the bed without waiting for a reply with a bounce in his step and a wide smile.

"My husband the romantic."


	19. Muggles in the Outback

**AN: Uhm, there's probably mistakes...so if they're blatant just lemme know. There's only so many times I can go through a chapter before it all sort of runs together. Oh yes my lovelies...don't forget, next chapter is a delicious serial killer chapter. Also..don't hate me too much, I'll make it up to you. Promise. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 19 – Muggles in the Outback

* * *

"I still can't believe you sent everyone you know a bloody Howler."

"Shut it already, I'm sick of hearing about it. I was excited. I'm still excited. There's absolutely nothing wrong with sharing such emotions with your loved ones, friends and even you Potter."

"Yea, but a Howler Malfoy? You nearly scared James to death. I suppose I should thank you though. Stori dropped a platter of roast which saved me from eating it."

"Someday the Daily Prophet is going to run the banner: Boy-Who-Lived Killed by Roast. You really should stop attempting to eat her cooking. It'd be a terrible way to go, even for you."

"You're an arse, Malfoy."

"So I've been told Potter. Not even you can ruin this beautiful day. I'm going to be a fucking father."

"Yea, I know, I think all of bloody England heard those blasted Howlers, though I can just imagine the look on your father's face when it shouted at him. I bet that was a sight to behold."

While Harry was practicing 'constant vigilance', Draco mumbled under his breath something that sounded eerily similar to 'my father threatened to physically remove my bollocks', which Harry ignored. As much as he was enjoying giving Malfoy a bit of a hard time, it currently wasn't the place for such things.

"Did you tell her about her brother?" Harry amused himself while they sat in the car waiting for the rest of the team to arrive by barraging Malfoy with questions.

"I had planned on it, but time got away from me and with the baby, I didn't want to upset her." Draco tapped his wand against the closed window. It didn't matter how many times Potter told him not to, it amused him.

"I still can't believe you knocked up my best friend."

"Oi, you knocked up mine. Fair is fair, Potter."

"I hate you." Harry groaned. He didn't understand why Shacklebolt had decided they should take separate Portkeys. He swore the Minister for Magic was simply punishing him.

"Feeling's mutual, as always. Fuck how long much I sit in this infernal Muggle contraption?"

"It's a car, Malfoy."

"I know what it is, I simply dislike it." Draco attempted to stretch his long legs while trapped in the passenger seat of the compact vehicle and almost hit his chin with his knees.

"It's not like we can Apparate to their front door." Harry closed his eyes, mentally wrapping his fingers around a certain pale blonde's throat and shaking it…hard.

The two wizards ignored each other to the best of their ability in the small quarters, each lost in their own thoughts. Harry hoped James wasn't being Voldemort Incarnate for Astoria, yet considering his son was teething, Harry didn't have high hopes. Draco hoped Luna was incessantly plucking Hermione's aura if only because she would be required to sit still.

"When do you suppose it happened? Hermione's pregnancy I mean." Harry stared out the dirty window, watching a pickup truck make its way down the deserted road.

"I don't know. I hope it was the time she let me hang that mirror near the dining table. I tossed an entire bag of flour on that table, bent her over and…"

"FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN STOP!"

"You asked, Potter." Draco huffed, amusing himself by twirling his wand between his fingers.

"I meant, how far along do you think she is? Do you know? When is she due? Things of that nature, not which kinky position, you wanker." Harry smacked his head on the steering wheel, begging Goyle to arrive.

Cho Chang, Pansy Longbottom and Pada Patil were in the conveyance behind them and Harry hoped they were just as bored. He snickered remembering the wands pointed in Draco's general direction when he requested to have Padma replaced due to her condition.

"_Condition? Condition? You've got some bloody nerve Malfoy. It's a Portkey, a patient analysis and loads of waiting around. If Blaise hadn't threatened the Minister with dismemberment, Luna would be accompanying the team." Padma Patil stabbed Draco Malfoy's chest with the tip of her wand, daring him to refute her._

"_Yes, but I haven't a need for a Post-Mortem Healer, I requested an actual Healer. The sort who's used to dealing with the living. The fact you're toting around another Weasley barely has anything to do with the request."_

"_He insulted me, you heard him, didn't you Harry? He bloody well insulted me. I'll have you know Malfoy I'm just as qualified if not more so than your average Healer, you bastard. I understand we're to retrieve Hermione's parents, therefore I expect a ridiculous number of Aurors and what have youse in order to escort them back to England. I also expect that since you're an anal-retentive sort, I'll probably be one of the most protected witches ever to exist." Padma's dark eyes flashed, her long straight dark hair swinging gently while she tapped her wand to his chest. Draco knew he didn't have the hint of a prayer in dissuading her._

"_Fine! I'm only leading the bloody team. No need to listen to my demands or anything. Parkinson, you're in charge of Patil." Draco growled low and steady, even as he shoved Padma's wand from his person. He spun on his heel in order to keep reign on his bubbling temper. "Bloody Gryffindors."_

"_Ravenclaw…"_

"_Still don't care!"_

* * *

"I almost wish Goyle was still stupid."

"What the hell is wrong with you Malfoy?"

"Many things, but that's not the point. If Goyle were still stupid I could blame this insufferably long wait on his inability to properly hold onto a Portkey, or even he simply forgot what he was doing, or he got lost on the way to the loo…something, anything…"

"We arrived first so we could cast the Muggle Repellant Charms while they were inside. An hour or so later, Padma and Pansy arrived and you being a completely less than chivalrous prat demanded they procure their own car. Nott arrived an hour after that, though he was supposed to bring Pucey with him, but conveniently left him behind. You bloody Slytherins don't fool me for a moment. Therefore, Goyle should be arriving any moment, but Merlin only knows who is escorting him."

Draco sat up suddenly when he spied a slight woman exiting the side door of the modest home. Her dark hair was piled upon her head and Draco knew she was Hermione's mother simply from the arrogant upturn of her nose. She closed the door slowly, as if she were willing it to remain silent. She crept along the side of the house until she stood beside a ridiculous looking tree. Draco smirked in recognition when she pulled a cigarette from her inner pocket.

"I need a smoke." Draco decided, reaching for the door handle.

"What? You don't smoke." Draco's stomach made its displeasure immediately known and he smiled. With one hand on the door handle and the other shoving his wand into the pocket of his blazer, he wiggled his eyebrows at a confused Harry Potter.

Draco Malfoy of Wilshire England, only son and heir of Lord Malfoy of the House Malfoy and Lady Malfoy of House Black, expelled his gas the way a pureblood should; loudly, quickly and with an escape route in mind. He leapt from the vehicle, slamming the door, so as to trap the noxious fumes inside and locked the car with his wand. He tapped the window with glee dancing in his eyes.

"I do now. Suck on that, Potter."

Draco jaunted down the walk toward Monica Wilkins with a wide smile of satisfaction. Monica inhaled faster at the sight of the stranger until he held his hand up.

"Excuse me madam, I've been waiting for my friends for bloody hours and I was wondering if I could have a fag? I saw you there and the temptation was simply too much for me I'm afraid."

"Come around the side so my husband doesn't see us." Monica gestured to her small patch of shade and handed him a Muggle cigarette with a conspiratorial grin.

Draco honestly had no interest in smoking, but he supposed it was a fantastic conversation starter considering the circumstances.

"Thanks much." Draco leaned against the tree while searching Monica's face for a resemblance to his wife. There was something around the eyes, though hers were a deep blue and the colour of her hair, perhaps even the tilt of her chin and he nodded.

"What of your friend?" Monica gestured toward an obviously irate Harry Potter who it seemed was coughing spasmodically.

"Oh he doesn't smoke. It seems he's locked himself in the car." Monica's large blue eyes widened and for a moment, he was reminded of a house elf. "He's a bit of an imbecile. Don't worry about him, I certainly don't."

"You're British." She had a pleasant voice, he decided and nodded slowly.

"I am, sorry about that." Draco brushed the flopping strands from his forehead while watching Monica concentrate.

"It's alright. I think…I was British once. I have dreams sometimes…of a curly headed girl, which is silly really. I have a son you see. He's only just three." Monica frowned and Draco was having difficulty biting back the gasp of recognition.

"No, I don't think it's silly at all." He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and removed a photograph which he extended for Monica's viewing. "I have those sorts of dreams myself."

"She's a pretty girl." Monica fingered the photograph carefully, almost as if it would disappear beneath her ministrations.

"I think so as well. I think I'll keep her." Draco tried to remain detached while speaking with his mother-in-law but it was more difficult than he thought it would be.

"What's her name?" Monica never took her eyes from the photograph. It wasn't the most recent picture of Hermione he had, but it was one of his favourites.

He had discovered a Muggle camera in one of the many boxes Hermione had stored in one of the many closets near the Travel Room. He had bounded up the stairs, intrigued with his discovery constantly pushing the strange button on the top. Draco had held the contraption in front of his face and laughed when he spied Hermione in a paisley apron with a bit of flour on his nose. She had shouted at him, which had turned into a playful sort of fight with flour and tea towels. He had a series of the photographs mounted on the wall in his office and chose the one where she was laughing with a finger swipe of flour on her nose to carry with him.

"Hermione."

"Well isn't that funny? Huh, I feel quite conflicted about that and I don't understand why exactly. That's strange isn't it?" Monica abruptly shoved the picture into Draco's hand and shook her head.

"What's your son's name?" Draco changed the subject quickly. He wasn't sure how strong the Memory Charm his wife had originally performed was, but he didn't wish to job her memory without Goyle on hand.

"Wendell, that's my husband, we argued for months first. He's always had an unhealthy obsession with mythology. Oh, I suppose that's why the photograph of your lovely wife made me feel a bit off. Wendell, you see was quite determined to name our child Hermione if it were a girl. Of course I objected, the poor girl would be mocked incessantly, wouldn't you wager? It doesn't matter now, we have a beautiful little boy and I finally relented, allowing Wendell to name him Troy." Monica Wilkins blushed furiously upon realising she had insulted the nice young's man wife in a most roundabout fashion.

Draco snorted with laughter. Hermione's mother was a bit of a pip and it was obvious her father had named the poor girl. He wondered if she was aware while he surreptitiously waved his wand, finally freeing Harry Potter.

"Oh look! Your friend has finally managed to free himself. Isn't that lovely?" Harry gestured wildly which Draco interpreted to mean Harry wished him to get back into the vehicle. Draco ignored him and sat on the hard ground, fingering the sparse grass.

"How'd you meet your husband?" He almost kicked himself for asking such a question, but it wasn't often he held pleasant conversations with Muggles. Monica adjusted her beige slacks, tucked an errant piece of dark hair behind her ear and sat beside him.

"He bumped into me in a book store. I know it's not very romantic, but that's alright. I couldn't reach the book on the top most shelf and he took it down for me and knocked me off my feet quite literally. He helped me up and said 'Hello pretty, my name is Paris, come along then for a spot of tea.' I couldn't very well snub the poor bloke. When I told him my name is Helen, he proposed in the middle of the tea shop declaring he'd never find another woman as perfect for him as me." Monica laughed heartily in the moments before gripping her head in pain. "No, that's not right. That can't be right. My name is Monica…my husband is Wendall and we've always wanted to live in Australia…" Monica Wilkins stroked her forehead with the tips of her fingers, her smile wavering.

Draco was lost. He wasn't sure what the proper etiquette is for comforting a stranger-cum-mother-in-law when she hadn't the least idea who he is to her. He settled for awkwardly patting one of her hands and motioned for Harry to approach.

"Malfoy, Goyle's here." Harry was obviously uncomfortable but Monica paid him no mind. She sniffed and crinkled her nose in such a way Draco couldn't help but to think of Hermione.

"I know he's a bit addled, but the poor boy could be taught to bathe, couldn't he?"

"Monica? Do we have guests?" Harry glared murderously at a highly amused Draco Malfoy while Wendell Wilkins hollered from the front door.

He was a tall man and while Draco wasn't the least bit intimidated, he was slightly impressed with the man's size. The curly mop of dirty blond hair told him exactly where his wife got her unruly curls and his soft brown eyes were wary but not unfriendly. He smiled at his wife and Draco knew he was asking her silent questions.

"It's fine, dear. It seems these gentlemen are a bit lost and they're waiting for their mates to meet up. I believe there's a few more in that car over there? Perhaps we should invite them to tea?" Monica chewed her bottom lip and even Harry showed mild surprise at the action.

Wendell looked as though he would balk at the very suggestion. He quirked his eyebrow while studying the young men with a practiced eye. He opened his mouth and Harry thought Hermione's father would object to their presence until he saw Monica. Her small hands were on her hips, legs akimbo and Harry knew Wendell never stood a chance.

"I believe Troy is caterwauling. Bring along your new friends." Wendell sighed and pulled on his dark blond curls in obvious frustration.

"This is strange isn't it? It's not just me?" Harry whispered to Draco while they waited patiently for the girls to join them.

"I'm frightened Potter, hold me."

"You can fuck right off." Harry Potter shouted in shock and pain when Monica Wilkins slapped his shoulder with such force he stumbled.

"You might be a bit touched but there's never a need for such language!"

"That's right Monica, you tell him." Harry snarled at the smug Draco Malfoy nodding behind Monica Wilkins with his arms crossed.

The unlikely group followed Monica into the yellow house in silence. Draco allowed Harry to take the lead during introductions. He wasn't interested in idle mundane chatter. He was mesmerized by the dark haired curly boy with the bright blue eyes who had attached himself to Draco's leg.

"Hi! You big. I lil. I fwee." Troy Wilkins clapped his hands with excitement and the light bulbs exploded in a fantastic blinding rainbow of colour. "Oops mummy. I dood it 'gain." Troy giggled as only a toddler could before his short little legs carried him at a spectacular velocity down the corridor.

Draco looked to Harry and realised he was glad Hermione had chosen him for this task. Harry was absolutely dumbfounded. He slowly lowered himself to an orange and brown floral sofa, completely speechless. Chang, Parkinson-Longbottom and Patil sat at a small dining table sipping piping cups of tea and pretending they were elsewhere.

"Uhm, that sort of thing happen a lot then?" Draco cleared his throat nervously, unsure how to venture forward. He actually had never seen a Muggle child or any child for that matter; display such blatant magical ability at such a young age.

"That's why you're really here isn't it? I wasn't expecting it to happen so soon. Dumbledore didn't visit us until she received her letter you see." Monica sighed heavily, sinking into a rocking chair in the corner of the bright yellow living area.

"She keeps going on about that, I haven't the slightest idea to what she's referring but its best not to argue with her." Wendell offered Draco a glass of scotch, on the rocks no less, which he hastily accepted.

"I wouldn't worry about it, sir. I was quite familiar with Albus Dumbledore. I'm sorry to have to be the one to inform you that he's passed. It was a few years ago, hence why we're here instead of him." Draco almost nodded, quite pleased with himself, but managed to maintain a somber expression. He sipped his scotch, lifting his glass in appreciation.

"I always thought she was a bit barmy. These things only started happening after we got into quite a row about naming Troy. Lovely scotch isn't it? Single malt, 12 years, not too young, not too old, quite a bit like Goldilocks if I say so myself." Draco hadn't the slightest idea who this Goldilocks person was, but he decided it was best to simply smile and nod.

When Draco realised that Harry Potter was going to continue to be as useless as he ever was, he began to speak. Monica and Wendell hung on his every word as he spun them a tale of witches, wizards and magic. He spoke slowly and carefully, avoiding even a mention of the war. At some point during the one sided conversation, little Troy had climbed into his lap, determined to bounce himself into oblivion. Draco didn't mind, even when Troy repeatedly poked his nose.

"Are you going to take him?" Monica asked the moment Draco had finished speaking. The question surprised him, caught him off guard even and he struggled to answer.

"Why…I don't…" The sharp rap on the door interrupted his stammering and while he was immensely grateful he was also quite perturbed with Harry Potter. What the hell was the point of coming along on a mission if the intention was to do fuck-all?

Monica wrung her hands, the sound of skin brushing against skin somehow soothing in the air of tension. Wendell strode forward quite quickly, his Muggle jeans swishing to answer the door. Draco almost groaned when he saw a nervous Gregory Goyle standing in full wizard robes, having the audacity to hold his wand as if it were natural.

"Oi, Goyle, where the fuck have you been eh?" Pansy Parkinson Longbottom shouted across the intimate setting. "We've been here for ages waiting on you lot. Where's your bloody escort? You're a right mess aren't you? Some things never change I suppose. Hurry up then, I've delayed my honeymoon for this." Pansy had given up on the pretense of playing Muggle and warmed her tea using her wand, which earned her a stern look from Harry. She half raised her shoulder in defiance before returning to the other girls.

"It was a right mess. I missed my portkey, lost my escort and wound up in Sydney instead of Liverpool. I'm here now aren't I?" Greg sighed and after nodding toward Wendell simply sat beside Harry.

"I'm surrounded by imbeciles." Troy bounced on Draco's knee, clapping his hands and tea cups leapt off the table to smash to the floor.

"Dupit!" Troy pointed at Greg and laughed until it turned into squeals.

"Did that little bastard just call me stupid?" It was amusing to see something as complex as incredulousness pasted on Gregory Goyle's face and yet it happened just the same.

"Oi. Goyle, don't insult the boy. He's not bloody wrong. Parkinson, check the wards. Potter, go with her as it's obvious you're doing a fat lot of good here. Chang, wipe the premises of magical signature and clean up the bloody glass, it's dangerous. Patil, give Monica and Wendell a once over, I rather prefer we know they're in proper health before having Goyle remove the Charm." Draco sat Troy on his hip while he surveyed the living space with a practiced eye.

He didn't know how much space of time Goyle would need, but he knew the wizard would prefer to do his job without an audience. Troy manipulated Draco's cheeks, amusing himself but refusing to let go of the blonde. He didn't mind as much as he thought he should.

"I don't understand what's going on exactly, Mr. Malfoy, but I'm going to trust you. I've never seen Troy so taken with anyone, not even us and that says something." Wendell sat where he was directed, perching himself on the edge of the hideous floral sofa Harry Potter had vacated.

"I appreciate that Wendell and I sincerely hope your feelings on the matter do not change. Goyle, you're up. I'm going to take Troy here to the kitchen, perhaps I'll find some biscuits for him and we'll have a bit of a chat. Will it take long?" Draco didn't mind the sticky fingerprints decorating the front of his light blue button down nor the chubby toddler fingers tugging on his hair.

"Well, it seems they've been properly prepped. Shouldn't take but a few moments, but I could use a few Pain Potions. They might be necessary. I've read quite a few studies and even witnessed firsthand how painful the return of memories can be." Goyle mopped his forehead sloppily with the sleeve of his robe, breathing deeply.

"I didn't know you could read." Draco winked and carried Troy into the small kitchen.

"That's still not funny, Malfoy. Hello, I haven't been properly introduced, but my name is Gregory Goyle and I've been sent here to aid you. I don't know how much you've been told about the wizarding world, but no matter. A few years ago a special spell was performed on you both before you relocated to Australia and it's my job to reverse the effects. There's nothing to be afraid of, you shouldn't feel a thing. Of course there is a small chance of some adverse side effects such as disorientation and headache but that can be fixed right as rain with the application of a simple Potion. All you need to do is relax."

Monica and Wendell Wilkins looked at each other and then the nervous wizard who was sweating profusely. They were ill at ease, but it seemed they didn't have much of a choice in the matter. Their hands unconsciously sought each other along the floral pattern until they were gripping each other tight.

"In mente ergo habe." Gregory Goyle swished and flicked his wand in the air around them, in such a practiced manner; they relaxed as the air swirled with magic. "Memento quaeso. Memento quod omnia in pace."*

The Wilkins gasped; their knuckles white even as their breaths became laboured. The air around them flickered with the smallest of blue lights while in their minds eye was a picture show of flashing images until they closed their eyes from the brunt of it all. Greg levitated them to their bedroom easily, praying to Merlin he'd managed to perform the spell properly. It wasn't the words which were the issue, it was the complicated spell work, the likes of which he'd never seen which worried him the most. He supposed now it was simply a matter of waiting and patience was never one of his strong points.

It was quite easy for him to settle into the armchair nearest the kitchen and relax his eyes for a moment. He smiled while listening to the tinkling of a child's laughter melded with Draco Malfoy's laughter. He'd never heard his old friend truly laugh before and Greg decided it was a sound he could get quite used too.

"I brought this book of pictures for your parents. See here, that's your big sister. D'ya know how you make the lights go boom? Yea? Your sister can do things like that too. It's called magic. You'll learn all about it." Troy pointed to each picture of Hermione with a big smile, simply repeating 'girl' until he'd gone through the book at least twice.

Finally, the youngster curled into Draco's side and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Draco watched Troy's long eyelashes brush his chubby cheeks as he took long blinks. It wasn't but a few moments later that he was sound asleep.

* * *

"Do you think they're alright? Do you think Greg managed to perform the Charm properly? What are the side effects, do you know? What happens if it's performed improperly? Will they be transported to St. Mungo's? They've already been gone three days, what could possibly be taking so long? What if they don't wish to return? Do you think Malfoy would take me to meet them? Oh gods, what if they hate me?"

"Hermione, if you don't bloody well shut up I'm going to Silence you simply for a bit of peace of mind. I deserve some peace of mind after listening to you blather about." Luna Zabini tossed a throw pillow at Hermione's face on the four poster bed.

Luna had been quite excited to spend a few days with another witch, but after attempting to calm an incessantly worrying Hermione Malfoy, she was definitely having second thoughts to her euphoria. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy Hermione's company, normally she did. Hermione had proved to be quite a good friend in the years following the war, but it seemed the young witch had never learned how to enhance her calm. She fretted, worried her lip into oblivion and paced until she fell into bed with exhaustion. Luna had forced Hermione to eat, rest and even have sporadic sips of tepid tea all to no avail. The questions never seemed to stop and while valid points were made, Luna simply wished to sleep.

"That's not very nice, Luna." Hermione huffed, pouting slightly as she tried to find a comfortable position in the overly large bed. It wasn't the same without Draco beside her and the scent of his skin filled her senses to the point of overload. Luna had suggested changing the sheets, but of course Hermione wouldn't hear of it.

"I'm out of sorts. I'm not feeling particularly well. It seems Blaise Zabini's spawn wishes me to revisit every morsel which has ever laid upon my tongue." Luna punched Hermione's pillow and drew the light coverlet over her nightgown clad body.

"I've found a bit of ginger tea before I even get out of bed does the trick. I'll ask Dink to bring us some in the morning." Hermione removed Draco's dress shirt from beneath the pillow, rubbing it against her cheek.

She knew it was a bit pathetic to miss him so when he'd barely been gone, but she couldn't help it. She didn't want to help it. She'd never felt so completely consumed by another person before. Hermione had always prided herself on being and remaining in control. She'd lost herself in the moment a few times and almost smiled at the memory of yellow canaries chasing a screaming Ron Weasley. Draco Malfoy made her feel as if she'd never had control of anything. He settled her in a way she'd never thought possible and she reveled in it.

Sometimes she wondered what her mum would think of such things. Her mum was determined her daughter would be a strong independent woman and yet there she was, sniffing her husband's shirt as if she were a lovesick teen. If her teenage self could see her now she'd be snorting in derision while silently berating her for losing herself in someone else.

"You're thinking much too loud." Luna's wispy voice broke through the pitch with a weary sigh.

"I can't sleep."

"Here." While Hermione had been huffing, sighing, tossing and turning, Luna had transfigured one of the throw pillows into a fluffy stuffed dog. "Take that bloody shirt you're sniffing and put it on the dog. It's not perfect, but it helps. I do it often when Blaise is away on business."

Hermione quickly complied, having learned during the first hours of Luna's stay it was better not to argue with the witch. Luna didn't necessarily have a temper, but she spoke in such a way one was always just the slightest bit of afraid of what she would do. It was better to comply.

She curled herself around the stuffed animal with closed eyes and slow deep breaths. Hermione hadn't realised she had begun to cry until she felt Luna's hand on her back, rubbing small circles of comfort. She fell asleep with the scent of her husband and a small hand on her back.

* * *

Draco arrived at Forest Lake the next morning with a heavy heart, toting a sleeping toddler. He hadn't expected everything to fall apart as quickly as it had. He didn't understand it, not really. Hermione's parents had seemed like delightful people, though he'd be the first to admit he didn't know much when it came to Muggles.

The moment Monica Wilkins awoke, she was furious. She had refused to answer to Helen Granger; therefore they were forced to continue calling her Monica. She had yelled, screamed, and thrown things until finally she slapped Harry with such force he required a Potion. Draco was a bit terrified of her and wondered if she wasn't mental.

"_I never wanted children in the first place. It wasn't bad enough I got saddled with him right when I thought my life was to be easier, no; I have a daughter as well. She's married a bloke who seems pleasant enough which is lovely for her, I suppose, but what of me? She embraced that bloody magical world and forgot everything we instilled in her. As if that wasn't enough, a madman decided she wasn't magical enough and because of that madman she stole our lives. What now exactly? I'm simply supposed to return to England as if nothing ever happened? Am I supposed to forgive her? Is that it? Apparently my son is magical as well? Delightful. I suppose another madman will decide he shouldn't exist either? Our choices in the matter were stripped away from us as if we were naughty children being sent to our rooms without dinner. How dare she? Don't even ask me, the answer is no. I don't wish to see her. I'm quite furious and I don't imagine that changing soon. Paris, say something." Monica, Helen, whatever she wished to call herself was red faced, sweating and absolutely seething._

"_Mr. Malfoy, I must commend you for taking care of our daughter. I'm still attempting to reconcile the fact I have a daughter, but I feel the need to thank you anyway. My wife isn't a bad woman. She's not a maternal woman of that I've always been certain and I never expected her to change. She didn't. I'm not well suited to being a father. I'm harsh and I haven't the patience required. I tried and I would have continued to try for both of them." Paris Granger paused, shaking his head slowly as his wife slammed their bedroom door, obviously finished with the conversation. "Helen has a history of mental illness. Not the hereditary sort, the kind which stems from trauma. I suppose when Hermione removed our memories, she also removed the trauma. However, things are different now. It wouldn't be safe for Troy to remain with us. I need to focus on her and getting her well, unless of course, I can convince you to remove her memories once more. She was happy then. She was well and I'll cherish those memories. I want you to take Troy. You'll be good to him. You'll raise him the way he should be raised. You'll teach him of an entire world we never even knew existed. You'll love him and he's quite fond of you. He was never quite as affectionate with us and I suppose that's our fault. I would expect you to think poorly of me, of us and I wouldn't fault you for it. I wouldn't fault you in the least." Paris ruffled Troy's hair and Draco was thankful he had thought to put a Silencing Charm around the boy. No child should hear their parents speak of them in such a manner._

"_I can't remove your memories. I understand the request and I'm not saying no. I simply…I need to discuss it with Hermione first." Draco's hands shook, which he hid along the creases in Troy's blue and green striped shirt._

"_I'd like to…visit her. I can't guarantee I'll stay or even change my mind, but I'd like to see her, to explain. She deserves that much. I'm sorry if I seem rude, but would you mind leaving? I need to phone a few facilities for Monica er Helen. I know exactly how this goes. She'll rant a bit and then she'll succumb to the pain of the past. It'll be better if Troy never has to experience such a thing." Draco hugged the child tighter, tears pricking the corner of his eyes._

"_W-what should I tell him? Surely he'll ask about…"_

"_Tell him…tell him he's better off. Tell him nothing if you like. Tell him everything. Tell him we've died. Make something up. It doesn't matter, not anymore. It's alright to think badly of me…to think badly of her. I've always loved her, you see. I can't imagine my world, my life without her. I'd do anything for her and as for Troy? I'd do anything to protect him from her, even if that means letting him go." Paris Granger gazed sadly at his son before spinning on his heel and walking down the corridor to his wife. Draco Malfoy watched carefully, but Paris never looked back._

* * *

When Hermione awoke she was only certain of two things. The sun was shining and there was a small hand on her stomach. She thought she was dreaming. She couldn't imagine a single scenario where a small hand would be gently patting her abdomen with a sing-song sort of babble. She was vaguely aware of heavy breathing beside her and assumed Luna was still sleeping. She opened one eye, squinting against the sunlight to see a curly haired toddler calmly sitting between her and Luna. Hermione closed her eyes tightly, her breath quickening until she heard the deep tell tale chuckle of her husband.

"Hey…be nice." Hermione wasn't used to hearing Draco's voice so soft and kind. Luna grunted, rolling away from her and she thought perhaps the child had patted her a touch too hard.

"Baby." Hermione felt the small hand gently tapping. "Baby." She opened her eyes, focusing on the child. His head was swiveling between her and Luna.

"Good morning, love." Draco leaned over Hermione and kissed her forehead, yet she could see the worry in his eyes.

Hermione pushed her curls off her face and struggled to sit up against the ornately carved headboard. Troy, being the inquisitive child he is had no qualms when it came to climbing into her lap and resting his head against her breast. His chubby little fingers were tangled in her hair and Hermione hadn't the heart to remove him from her person.

"Uhm, Malfoy, I already told you we were having a child; there was no need to steal one." He knew she was attempting to put him at ease and he loved her for it, desperately. "So, who does this little one belong too?"

Troy picked up his head and patted her cheek. Hermione couldn't help but smile at him and in return received a sloppy kiss on the corner of her mouth. He snuggled into her as if it were second nature and fisted the front of her ivory nightgown. Her arms naturally came around him, one under his bum, the other rubbing small circles on his back while she gazed upon Draco.

"Us." Draco clapped his hand over his mouth in disbelief. He had a careful speech planned, complete with pros and cons to cater to the logical ways of his wife's mind, yet when the moment was upon him he burst as if he were a child with a delicious secret.

"Y-you're…you're serious, aren't you?" Hermione closed her eyes, wishing she was in the midst of dream from which she could not wake, yet as she listened to the steadied breathing upon her, she knew it was reality.

"Nee, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to spring it on you like that. I had a list of pros and cons and a very good explanation but I just…" Draco dragged Hermione's vanity chair to her side of the bed. He perched on the edge of it and pulled one of her hands into his.

"You forgot to think before you speak. It's alright Malfoy; I'm quite used to it. Would you care to explain?"

Draco nodded slowly, keeping her hand firmly in his as the words became to pour from between his quivering lips. He didn't wish to be the one to tell her that her parents would not return. He didn't want to be the one to tell her of her mother's swift demise. He did however enjoy telling her of Troy, her baby brother and the quick attachment he had formed to the child. Draco presented a small packet of parchment and laid them across her legs.

"Your father, he isn't a bad man. I can't judge him harshly for his decision to stand beside your mother. I can't say I wouldn't do the same if some sort of affliction were to tear our growing family apart. I must say, your father does have an unhealthy obsession with the mythological world. Paris, Helen, Hermione and Troy, my word wouldn't that be a lovely story? He's a good kid, Nee. He's family and…"

"Malfoy, I'm not going to turn him away. It's simply…how are we going to do this? Can we do this? What do we tell him? Does he know who I am? I…" Troy sat up suddenly, rocking against Hermione's bladder and she winced with discomfort.

Draco easily lifted the boy, placing him on his knee with a broad smile. Hermione was feeling a bit conflicted, which was to be expected. She hadn't truly believed she would have a happy family union, yet there was a small part of her which had hoped. Secretly she despised the longings of her inner child, still palpating over the idea of a mother's loving embrace.

She had always known her mother was a tad unstable. It was impossible to remain unaware with her childhood. Hermione had always clung to the ideal that her mother had loved her, truly loved her and it was simply her affliction which caused her to be so harsh. It was exceedingly difficult for her to listen to the softly murmured words. It was painful to discover she had been nothing more than an inconvenience, but she was Hermione Granger, she would rise above such things.

"Da, eat." Troy patted Draco's face, his stubby little legs kicking furiously.

"I used to call my father Da when I was small. He's really gotten attached you, hasn't he?" Troy leapt off Draco's lap, landing heavily on Hermione's legs to crawl across her. He amused himself by stroking Luna's hair while Hermione was amazed the witch was still sleeping.

"He's the reason I took a bit longer before heading home. I don't…I don't think your parents were…particularly attentive? He hasn't cried. He hasn't asked for them, not even once. He refused to sleep in bed by himself at the inn. He put up a bit of a fuss but the moment I put him in my bed he just…he curled into my side, patted my face, said 'ni ni da' and went directly to sleep. I didn't have the heart to tell him any different."

"Affection wasn't particularly high on my parent's list of priorities. I suppose my subconscious always knew they didn't want me. My father wasn't particularly patient and he was always more concerned with my mother than anything. She'd been through a lot you see. I never got the particulars and as a small child I didn't care. My grandparents had passed away when she was young and she went to live with distant cousins. It's all she ever said about it, but it must have been bad. I remember her screaming in her sleep and she hated to be touched. It was almost as if it were truly revolting. My father told me once she never held me when I was a baby and it didn't surprise me. I just thought…if I worked hard and was always my very best, maybe one day she'd love me. I thought if my mum could love me then my dad could as well, but I was wrong. I shouldn't have sought to remove the Charm. They were better off." Hermione drew her knees up under the coverlet, her eyes vacant.

"Nee, where would that leave Troy? Doesn't he deserve to feel loved? He's magical, did I tell you that? We could keep him. It's not as if we don't have the means…"

"I can't very well argue with that, now can I? I suppose we should get him a bit of breakfast and take him to Diagon Alley. We haven't the necessities and he'd quite enjoy it I'm sure." Hermione smoothed Troy's unruly curls before climbing from the bed. Draco held her tight, breathing her in and kissed her hard. "Troy Malfoy is absolutely horrid. Paris and Helen Granger should never be allowed to have nor name another child for the rest of their pathetic lives."

"Have I told you how much I love you?" His lips brushed her earlobe evoking a shiver and if Luna and Troy had not been present, Draco was certain he would have ravished her.

"Should we change his name? Isn't that a little extreme?" Hermione pulled back slightly to kiss the tip of his nose and look into those familiar and comforting pools of grey.

"He doesn't answer to his name anyway, so I don't think it matters." Hermione extricated herself from the safety and warmth of Draco's arms and picked Troy up from the four poster bed.

"What's his middle name then? Mother had a penchant to only referring to me as Jean to irritate my father. She probably hated my name more than I did." Hermione shrugged as it didn't matter a bit, but Draco had a sneaking suspicion she was burying yet another difficult emotion.

"Alexander." Draco unbuttoned his rumpled light blue dress shirt, intending to shower off the grime of travel.

"Alex? Xan? Xander?" Hermione tapped Troy's chin until she sensed some sort of response.

"Me!" He shouted, his legs swinging once more.

"Xander it is. Well, that's simple enough. I'm going to get him a spot to eat and send up a tray for Luna. You need to shower and dress. I suppose you're expecting me to have some sort of mental breakdown, but I haven't the time for such things now do I? We've got a little one to care for and it seems he requires a touch of spoiling. I'll sign the papers and I'm counting on you to handle the rest. Glad you're home, Draco. I missed you." Draco stared in wonder as he watched Hermione settle Xander on her hip and whisked from the bedroom with murmurs amid the sound of a child's laughter.

Hermione thought her heart would burst into a million pieces of pleasure while she fed Xander tidbits of waffles smeared with strawberry jam. She was sure she was quite a fright, but it didn't matter. He was such a happy child, despite the circumstances of his upbringing.

"Eat it." She dutifully opened her mouth to accept the dollop of jam Xander shoved between her lips. "Baby eat it." She laughed when he took the spoon and jammed her navel.

"Did Da tell you about the baby?" She stirred her peppermint tea with one hand, the other holding a wriggling Xander still. He shook his head vehemently, his dark curls flying. He jumped off her lap and before she could stop him, he ran into the sitting room.

Xander was spinning in circles, his chubby cheeks scrunched into a large smile and his dark curls flying. His pants were a bit too short and his green and blue striped shirt was a bit too big, but he was obviously thrilled with life and she didn't have the heart to ruin it. When he stopped spinning, he giggled with glee, shaky on his bare feet. He smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders to the point his neck almost disappeared and then he clapped his hands.

Hermione gasped, instantly stretching forward to pull Xander into her arms as the flames in the fireplace roared to life, scorching the brick and the abstract paintings decorating the walls crashed to the floor.

"Uh oh. I dood it. Sowy" Xander hung his head, tears glistening in his blue eyes as he shrunk away from Hermione. She gasped while realising it was almost as if he expected to be struck.

"It's alright baby. Accidents happen. It's called magic, look and see." Hermione winked and with a wave of her wand, flung open the heavy draperies allowing the sunlight to flow in. She then transfigured one of the decorative pillows into a teddy bear and made it kiss his cheek.

"Otay?" His bottom lip continued to tremble until Hermione nodded with encouragement. He had slowly backed away from her and Hermione had allowed it, not wishing to scare him further. It was her smile which ceased his retreat.

"We love magic here, Xander." He little legs carried him as fast as he could go across the hardwood floor until he crashed into her legs, his little shoulders shaking with sobs entirely too large for a child his age."It's ok, you're alright." Hermione rubbed his back, holding him close until he began to hiccup from the effort of simply breathing.

"What happened? Is he alright?" Draco had dashed down the stairs in a whirlwind of motion, leaving his clean crisp shirt unbuttoned.

"He did a bit of magic and it scared him, that's all."

"Aw Xander, don't be sad. We do magic all the time, isn't that right Nee?" The pitter patter of Hermione's heart surged into raucous thumps as she watched him interact with the toddler in an obvious paternal fashion. He was a natural, even she had to admit that and it was beautiful.

"No Nee, Mum-mum." Draco kissed both their brows as the empty space in his heart was slowly filled with a love he hadn't known existed.

The Floo roared to life and Astoria Potter stumbled out, the soot clinging to her cheeks as the raging tears ran rivulets down her face.

"I'm sorry. I know it's…it's only f-for emergencies it's just…" Astoria took a ragged breath, her hands clutched together between her breasts. "Shacklebolt. K-Kingsley s-sent a-a Patronus. T-there's been another and Harry isn't back yet and…"

* * *

*Remember then. Remember now. Remember it all in peace.


	20. VIII

**AN: Just remember...I love you guys ok? Don't forget. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 20 – VIII

* * *

Sometimes I think I'm in over my head. I feel that way quite a lot actually, but I'm also afraid to admit it. If I admit it, well, it becomes real and I'm not ready to deal with anything real, beyond the mounting pile of bodies. That's real enough I suppose.

I hadn't expected Molly Weasley to corner me at the impromptu Malfoy dinner. I'd been avoiding her, it was easier that way, but she followed me to the loo and I was trapped.

"_My dear, it's been so long since I've seen you. I keep telling Arthur; one of these days she'll accept an invitation to the Burrow. Mark my words, but you haven't."_

"_I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, I've been so busy…with the case, surely you understand." _

"_You must call me Molly. I've told you this. I know we weren't as close as we could have been and I haven't pressed you. I miss him too. I wish I had been able to see little Henry more. He was such a beautiful baby. He.."_

"_Mrs. W…Molly, I'm really quite famished. I'll owl you soon, promise."_

I didn't want to think about her or all the memories she brought roaring to the surface. I missed them more than anything, but I couldn't show weakness. I liked Molly well enough, but she was always a bit…overbearing. It's funny to think of it now, but I met John because of her.

Molly and John were in King's Cross Station. She was headed for Platform 9 ¾ of course and well, John stepped in front of the trolley and was pushed directly through. Molly was horrified she had allowed a Muggle a glimpse into our world. I didn't blame her and it was incredibly amusing to see the incredulous expression on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

I was about to board the Hogwart's Express for the last time when I spotted them. He was such a handsome man. I was intrigued and as no one was interested in lending a hand, I made my way toward them. It didn't take long for Molly to play matchmaker and before I knew it, I was promising to write him.

"_He's a handsome young man, isn't he? I know you've had a difficult time since…"_

"_I'm fine, Mrs. Weasley, really." _

"_Yes, yes of course you are! Wouldn't expect anything less really. No matter, I was just explaining to this delightful young man this is the train carrying the children to their very special school. He's a Muggle you see. I tapped him with my trolley and in he went." Molly chuckled with slight embarrassment, but John wasn't paying her any mind. He was staring at me._

"_You should take him back through, Molly before you get yourself in a spot of trouble."_

"_His name is John and he works in Muggle London. Wouldn't it be lovely if she were to write you John? Perhaps I could bring you along and we could all have a spot of tea!" Molly clapped her hands as if she'd just spouted the most wonderful idea in the history of ideas._

It had started simple. I wasn't able to owl him directly, but the Ministry made allowances for such things. I simply sent my owl to the Ministry and their Muggle Relations department would send it off to John. It was awkward in the beginning, but it didn't take long for us to develop an easy sort of friendship.

I don't even know how it happened, falling in love with him I mean. It wasn't my intention regardless of Molly's scheming. I had just woken up one day and realised I missed him terribly. Apparently he had been feeling quite the same way and just after my graduation we married.

It was a small Muggle ceremony, for his parent's sake and it was beautiful. John had invited Molly, saying he wished to give credit where credit is due. We never would have met without her…and sometimes I can't help but wonder if that would have been best for all of us.

It wasn't but a few months later I fell pregnant. He wasn't expecting it and neither was I but we were far from pleased. It was a hard pregnancy. I was on so many Potions and cursing John by the end of it all. I wasn't sure I'd ever want to do it again, but then the choice was taken from me.

Henry decided he wished to make his appearance earlier than planned. John was in quite a tizzy, it would have been amusing if he hadn't almost forgotten me at home. He couldn't very well take me to St. Mungos and so I wound up in a Muggle hospital. I didn't have anything against them, not really, I was simply terrified. They were rushing about using medical terms I didn't understand, but something was wrong.

I don't remember much of what happened, besides the blinding pain. Muggles really needed to learn how to do something about that. It was excruciating. I heard Henry wail and before I could get a glimpse of him, he was being whisked away and there was this horrid beeping sound until it all faded to black.

Later, John would tell me they did everything they could. He held my hand, kissed my brow and even brought Molly to visit. It helped some, but I felt a bit robbed. I loved Henry, even though I hadn't set eyes on him, but because of some complication, he would always be the only child I'd ever have.

I was grateful in a way, because at least I had him. He was alive, he was beautiful and he was mine. John said it was alright. He said he didn't need a house filled with children. He only needed me and Henry. I loved him for that.

I couldn't help but wonder though…if the magical world would have been able to do more. I always found it hard to believe that a Healer's first reaction would be to remove and dismember instead of…heal. I suppose it doesn't matter now, thanks to the Muggles, I would never have another child. I suppose the silver lining to the entire debacle was I was completely ineligible for their Marriage Law. I couldn't imagine forcing myself to marry again. I only wanted John and he was long gone.

* * *

Australia is really a beautiful country. I can't say I had time to explore it or anything, but the idea of returning was a comforting thought. I wish I could say I spied a few kangaroos boxing in the street, but I didn't. I was forced to play the good little Ministry Official and escort confused Muggles back to England.

I wish they had been nasty. It would have made my apathetic attitude much easier to maintain. Hermione Granger's parents, whoever would have thought? Certainly not I. They seemed nice enough, though her mum was definitely rough around the edges. She was constantly shrieking as if we were going to harm her. I mean, the idea had absolutely crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it. I couldn't imagine wrestling that wailing spoiled toddler from her arms in order to whisk her away.

I laughed to myself wondering if the Gryffindor Princess knew her parents had moved right along in their lives and had themselves another child. He was an adorable child; I had to give him that. He squirmed constantly and had a penchant for slapping his mother, but he was beautiful.

I didn't spend much time studying him. No, that could easily draw me away from my task at hand. Instead, I watched the father. He seemed utterly bored and fed up with his wife's antics, which I could understand completely. He seemed to be quite taken with Parkinson though. I could understand that. Pansy might drive me to the brink of insanity but she had a certain charm once you got used to her.

From the looks of things, it seemed Pansy was the complete opposite of Helen Granger. Before Goyle performed his magic and Helen Granger was Monica Wilkins, she was an absolute delight. Afterwards was a completely different, terrifying story.

I thought she'd never stop ranting and raving. Wendell, Paris, whatever his bloody name is wasn't particularly helpful when it came to calming her, but he put forth a good effort. She was positively hateful toward him and her son. It died down a bit, once Malfoy took the tot and left. Of course I was ordered to remain behind to clean the mess. It really was a mess, but quite honestly none of us knew what would happen once their memories were restored. It seemed the Grangers had a few skeletons in their closet.

I kept a close eye on Harry. He seemed to be the most affected by the blatant personality changes. It was strange to see him bewildered. I suppose it had happened before, but it had been so many years, there's no way to know. He sat with Mr. Granger for hours and while I wasn't close enough to properly eavesdrop, the body language spoke volumes. Harry had a soft spot for his friend's father. That intrigued me.

I hadn't originally considered harming Granger's family, but this was too much temptation. I didn't really care if my actions damaged Hermione. She's simply a byproduct. It comes with the territory of being friends with Harry Potter. Don't get me wrong, I fucking hate her, but now I'm leaning more toward apathy.

It would be difficult to formulate a proper plan without exposing myself, but perhaps it wouldn't be impossible. For a few moments at least, it looked as though Harry had almost convinced poor Mr. Granger to accompany us back to England. My hands were shaking, but I was careful to keep them out of sight. I didn't want to do anything that would give me away. When the sweat began dripping down my neck, I was reminded of those terrifying moments in the midst of the Malfoy dinner party.

Fucking Luna. It was easy to blame her because she had scared the bloody fuck out of me. Her predictions were uncanny to say the least and I had difficulty holding it together. I remembered the sweat pouring down my back and clutching that fucking goblet for all I was worth. Of course it would be Luna who had come the closest. It's not like I could condemn her, not really. I knew she was quite brilliant. She wouldn't have been Sorted into Ravenclaw otherwise.

I wasn't particularly close with her; I wasn't close with any of them. Marietta I suppose was the closest thing I had to a best mate. I barely spoke to her after the debacle at Hogwarts. She really should have known better than to succumb to the likes of Umbridge. When I killed her? She still had the slightest trace of 'Sneak' across her forehead. She wasn't part of the plan; she had just made me so fucking angry I couldn't help myself.

She didn't know anything. She didn't know what it felt like to be loved. She didn't know the worry which came along with giving yourself so completely to someone else you couldn't draw the line from where they ended and you began. She'd never had a child and been consumed with a love that bordered on ferocity. She had burned every bridge to ever exist in the Wizarding World and it wasn't as if she could go gadding about with Muggles. The first thing they would do is ask 'what is that shit on your forehead?'

Marietta always did have a bit too much nerve for my liking. I suppose that's why I hardly blinked as I killed her. Michael on the other hand, was simply a bore. A creepy, disgusting sort of bore, but a bore just the same. He had discovered John's death. Apparently he had a few relatives in his family tree who were Muggles. It was the worst coincidence. I couldn't have him telling people! It's my secret to bear. My skin was crawling simply by being in close proximity to him and I wondered how I had ever managed. Of course Ginevra Weasley had dated him and she hadn't faired any better than I. Disgusting human being and I rid the world of him. I think I should be commended.

Quite frankly I should converge on Molly Weasley in order to protect myself more than anything. Of course it would hurt Harry terribly, not to mention Ron and even Hermione. Perhaps Ron would even blame Harry if I happened to carve a very special message into her skin, but I couldn't do that. I couldn't maim Molly. I couldn't watch the life flicker from her eyes. Even I have limits; therefore I shan't touch a hair on Molly's head. John adored her and while I might be destroying my life, I refused to take hers.

"Mr. Granger, Paris, I'm simply asking you to consider it." That caught my attention. Pansy was strengthening the wards to keep other Muggles away as well as certain necessary Charms to keep Mrs. Granger safely ensconced in her home.

"Harry my boy; you know I've always been fond of you. Even when you were dragging my daughter into the depths of a danger I couldn't understand, but things are different now. I can't leave Helen behind and she's in no condition to travel. You heard what she said. I don't think it would be in our best interest really. Hermione's better off."

"How can you say that? You're her parents! I'd do anything, anything at all to have my parents and you're just throwing it all away!" It was always amusing to see Harry Potter get so worked up. He always had a bit of a temper, well not as bad as Ronald Weasley's, but there was always this rage sort of bubbling beneath the surface. I suppose it was why he's always been so reckless.

I had considered Astoria for half a second, yet I couldn't imagine creating another orphan, or even a motherless child. I wouldn't want another angst ridden mini-Harry Potter terrorizing the wizarding world. If I had my way, there would be no one left to blame for his status, which would make him exactly like his father and Merlin forbid that were to happen.

"Harry, you don't understand. I know you've always resented not having parents and your upbringing without them was less than stellar. I understand your animosity; however, if I were to allow Helen to remain in Hermione's life, she wouldn't be better off. Helen was simply never cut out for children and I shouldn't have pressed her. It's my fault you see. I was being selfish. I should have been happy to simply have her, but I wanted children and look what its' gotten me? I wasn't prepared to be a parent, not either time. Troy was, well he was a bit of an accident really and I wasn't a very good father to him. I wasn't a good father to Hermione either. Helen needs me. She's terribly ill and I fear that bringing back our memories has only made it worse. I'd really prefer…do you think…?"

"You want me to remove them don't you?" Harry sighed heavily and it was obvious the decision weighed him down heavily, but even I could see the logic in it.

I almost felt sorry for them, almost. Then the burning animosity set in. They had children and they were throwing them away because they were inconvenient? How dare they? How dare they have a child and treat it so poorly the child spends their entire life compensating for the lack of love. I bet Hermione never even realised it was lack of love on their part. No wonder she's such an overachieving bint. I can't even blame her anymore and that makes me angry as well.

"I'd be much obliged, Harry."

"I'll consider it on one condition." I was busying myself with the shards of china decorating the white tile in the kitchen, but I could scarcely breathe. I know Harry. Of course I've always known him to a certain extent, but after years of working with him in such close proximity, I knew exactly what he was going to say. I was practically giddy with joy.

"You want me to visit her." Mr. Granger sighed, but he didn't say no. He glanced over at me and I managed a small, encouraging smile.

By all means Mr. Granger, please come to England. There's a lovely spot near a serene lake I'd love to show you and wouldn't it be lovely to die someplace breathtakingly beautiful? I'm sure you'd agree.

I had to be careful. If Paris Granger became my next victim, my cover would be blown. I couldn't be certain it wasn't already with theories like Lovegood's floating around. It was only a matter of time before Hermione Granger's overbearing yet impressive brain began putting all the pieces together. She'd be hesitant at first, second guessing herself. She'd attempt to bring the matter to Harry's attention, but he wouldn't hear of it. The Boy Who Lived was unwaveringly loyal; even I had to give him that. No, the problem wasn't with her or even with Harry, it was Draco Malfoy.

He wasn't on my list, but sometimes I felt as though I should make an exception. I would, if it were not for the fact it would make Harry Potter and Ron Weasley deliriously happy. I tried to avoid evoking such emotion in either of them. Draco Malfoy could become quite a formidable opponent if he had his head in the game. He was distracted, which made everything just a bit easier for me, but I knew it was only a matter of time before a singular moment of clarity would have his eyes trained on me.

"Oi! You haven't heard a bloody thing I've said have you? You disgust me. I can't understand why Malfoy decided to drag you here. As if we have need of a bloody Cleaner."

"Listen here Potter, you're not Lead on this particular case so you need to get over yourself." Harry was always so easy to rile. It amused me to watch the range of emotions pass over his face before he rubbed his scar. He was frustrated, it was his tell and no matter how many times he was told by the Minister no less to learn to control it, he never managed.

"Look. I'm going to stay behind a few days. I have a rapport with the Grangers and I think it would be in Hermione's best interest if she were able to have closure where they're concerned. Malfoy has already returned to London with Troy, Goyle is going to stay with me to ensure their wellbeing. Why don't you return with Parkinson. There's obviously nothing here which requires your particular expertise and I think it would be best for all parties involved if we weren't forced to work together any longer."

"My particular expertise? Are you referring to my traumatizing liaison with your best mate? My, my, I never knew Harry Potter was capable of being facetious. I think you've a bit of misplaced anger, Harry. If my memory serves me right, I believe it was your mate that came on to me and when all was said and done was quite brutal about it." I didn't bother pretending to be demure and sweet. There was no need for pretenses with Harry; he wouldn't have believed it anyway.

"You're vile. Y-you tricked him somehow. Ron's not like that. I've never seen him like that before, it's your fault. Yo-you seduced him and…" I was tired of listening to him stammer about with ridiculous statements he didn't even believe. He was grasping at straws and it was pathetic.

"Whatever it takes to ease your conscience, isn't that right Harry? It's not as if you've ever taken advantage of anyone yea?" I smiled, giving him a bit of a wink. Everyone's always put him on a pedestal as if he were the best thing the wizarding world has ever seen and truth is he's just like everyone else.

"I-I-I don't know what you're talking about. You're bloody daft!" It was the doubt in those familiar green eyes which let me know I had won. It wasn't my intention to argue with him, but who was I to resist temptation? I could see the small beads of sweat on his brow and for some reason it was empowering.

"Really Harry? Are you quite sure about that? I mean, I seem to recall one particular moment during our Hogwarts days. It was a few years ago at least, so I'm having the slightest bit of trouble remembering the circumstances. Oh wait, never mind, I've got it. Yes, it was after a particularly invigorating session of D.A. You remember D.A., don't you Harry? There was a poor sad girl there, weeping over the loss of her boyfriend. Surely you remember Cedric Diggory, don't you Harry? She was quite sad and she was crying if I remember correctly. Do you remember what you did?" Harry's chest was heaving and I took a moment to revel in his unease. I could feel my rage bubbling just beneath the surface and my hands shook with the exertion of remaining calm.

"I kissed her." His lips barely moved, but I heard him and that was all I needed.

* * *

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to get blood out of robes? You'd think they'd make them impervious to such stains considering the history of the wizarding world, but no. It was just as bad as attempting to remove the stains from Muggle clothing. My hands were red and chapped from the effort and I had half a mind to simply dispose of them, but they were my favourite robes.

I couldn't risk leaving a trace of myself behind. You'd be surprised by the technological advances Muggles were making in forensics. John was obsessed with the telly and I spent many a night cuddled into his side while he explained the various crime programs.

"_You see that love? He thought he washed away every speck of his blood, but he missed a spot. A small spot did he him in. That gent there didn't wear gloves; they tracked him based on his fingerprints."_

"_Yes John, I've learned a very important lesson." _

"_What's that then?"_

"_Well, to always properly clean the crime scene when I'm done dismembering my victim."_

I couldn't help but smile. Gods I missed him and sometimes the moments sort of snuck up on me and I was completely overwhelmed with the emptiness within.

After I healed my sore, chapped, red hands, I turned toward the rest of the flat. It was a nice place I supposed. There wasn't much light and the bustle of the street was entirely too loud for my taste, but it wasn't my flat so what did it matter?

The windows were small and a bit grimy, the furniture was old and shabby but it wasn't dirty. It was lived in and had a certain charm. There were no photos on the wall; the painting over the fireplace was ripped along the corner, marring the waves crashing on the shore. I couldn't help but wonder how the resident in question had wound up here.

There was something decidedly calming knowing I could take my time. I threw my head back and laughed. It felt completely freeing to laugh. I probably sounded a bit mental, but let's face it…I am.

What I really needed was a place to dump the body. Could you believe he was surprised when I thrust my wand into his face? As if he hadn't seen it coming! Stupid man. It wasn't as if I was hiding myself from him or anything. He saw me, he saw my wand and the fear in his eyes was palpable and yet still he was shocked. Ridiculous. I was never keen on murdering imbeciles, but on the other hand it did make the world a better place. Shame I didn't have the opportunity to snatch his son. That would have been the pièce de résistance.

He blubbered a bit, downright crying even but I'd long since grown apathetic to the pleadings of the dead. He didn't understand. He tried to offer me money, but looking at his surroundings he didn't have much. I couldn't help but wonder where his wife had gone off too. It looked as if she hadn't been around for awhile.

I rifled through some drawers out of curiosity and discovered a worn letter. The corner was ripped, the words were smudged, but there was enough for me to get the gist of it.

_I can't live like this, not anymore. You're bloody obsessed with him. We have the right to have a life. Not everything is about him. He's been out of our lives for years. When are you going to let it go? I love you, you know I do and when you're ready to move on, you know where to find me._

Aww, now isn't that sweet? There's no accounting for taste. I didn't wish to spend another second in the shabby flat, but I still had work to do. It wasn't a difficult matter flipping the dead man onto his stomach. Magic really is such a wonderful thing. I rid him of his clothes, knelt down beside him and got to work.

I only had a few runes to carve. It wasn't nearly as difficult as the diatribe I had carved into Fleur. I heard she was doing quite well, though a bit skittish and her pregnancy was progressing nicely. Bitch. I didn't hate her; I recognised the jealousy for what it was. It wasn't just her, I wasn't particular. I hated all of them and their happy fucking lives while I wallowed in a misery that I couldn't bypass.

When I was finished carving the simply runes into his back, I Disillusioned him. I couldn't walk down the street hauling a mutilated body, even if I was in Muggle London. I would have to be careful. I couldn't very well stroll along asking for a taxi to my destination as myself. No, I would most definitely have to wear Susannah.

It was risky, but that was part of the thrill. It didn't take but a moment to transform into the tall, sinewy, buxom blonde. After that it was easy. I found an old trunk stashed in the small bedroom and stuffed him in it. I know, I know, it's a bit of overkill to Disillusion him and stuff him in a trunk, but better safe than sorry.

A simple _wingardium leviosa_ and I was standing on the street with a tatty trunk, waving down a taxi. It really was quite a beautiful day. Do you think he was thinking of the weather before I killed him?

The taxi driver was a sweet dark man. He struggled with the trunk and I couldn't resist aiding him a bit. It wasn't his fault there was a body in it, now was it? It wouldn't do to have him injure himself on my account.

"Thank you much, miss. Where can I take you?" He bowed slightly, crumpling his hat in his hands before he closed the door tightly. He was a bit bow legged and it took him a minute to get into the taxi. He smiled in the rearview mirror, waiting patiently. I returned his smile and sighed.

"Little Whinging."


	21. Number 4 Privet Drive

**AN: I'm aware this chapter took a terribly long time for me, but hey, writer's block happens &amp; stuff. I expect the following chapters will take just as long unless a miracle happens &amp; the words fly from my fingertips.**

**If the toddler language in the chapter offends you well sorry, but I based it off something my children had done so that's the way it is.**

**Thanx for reading *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 21 – Number 4 Privet Drive

* * *

"Do you think Harry's alright?" Hermione walked begrudgingly beside Draco as they traversed Diagon Alley.

He had refused to allow her to carry Xander, which she felt was absolutely ridiculous. She was pregnant, not an invalid, but Draco had refused to yield.

"Who cares? Don't look at me like that. I'm sure he's bloody delightful, having copious glasses of whisky with Wendell and dancing about completely starkers. Stori has a tendency to overreact. What would you like us to do? We've spoken with Kingsley and he assured us the victim was not Harry. Other than that, all we can do is wait it out, which we can do as easily here as we can at home." Draco cradled Xander carefully in his arms, pointing out the menagerie of witches and wizards wandering down the street.

"I hate it when you're right." Hermione shivered due to the light chill in the air and tightened the belt on her navy peacoat.

"Admit it, love, I've finally outlogicked Hermione Granger."

"Outlogicked isn't even a word."

"Doesn't matter, I've done it. Come along then, Xander here requires some robes if he's ever going to make a go of it as a proper wizard."

Draco stopped suddenly to stare down at his irritated little wife. He glanced about at the lunch hour bustle and realised, in that moment, he felt content. It was silly to think of such a thing while there was a deranged murderer running about, but he couldn't help it. He felt as if he truly had a family and while he couldn't imagine his heart capable of expanding further, the idea of his child growing within his wife brought him near to bursting.

Draco caught Hermione around the waist and he knew her first instinct would be to slap him. She grasped his forearm to keep herself steady and looked up, prepared to reprimand him when she saw the shine in his eyes. He'd never looked at her that way before and she found it slightly unnerving. Hermione didn't have more than a breath to contemplate it before his lips lightly touched hers.

She could no longer here the chatter on the streets, nor the clipping of shoes along the cobblestone. She was vaguely aware of Xander patting her head, but none of it mattered. Hermione's hand found his cheek with her eyes closed shut tight. She stretched onto her toes, pulling him closer, disregarding their surroundings as the sensation of his soft lips consumed her. Draco gently broke their kiss, keeping his arm tightly around her and pecked her forehead.

"I love you." Hermione inhaled deeply, memorising the moment.

"La loo." Xander bounced on Draco's arm, smiling happily.

"I feel guilty for feeling so happy." Hermione whispered into his chest while Xander chanted and waved at everything.

"You're definitely not alone there. Why don't we have a bite to eat?" Draco pushed open the door to a little café Hermione had never noticed before.

"Thank Merlin, I'm absolutely famished!" Draco laughed, his hand on the small of Hermione's back as they were lead to a small table in a darkened corner.

Xander was twisting and turning, trying to capture everything in his excitement. Draco had half a mind to stick Xander to his chair, but he couldn't imagine Hermione looking kindly upon him for it. Instead he whispered to the hostess and she brought what looked like a high chair, yet the straps were magically enhanced keeping Xander firmly in place.

"Da! Eat! Eat, Da!" Xander pounded the table with his chubby fists, his feet kicking wildly.

Hermione took it upon herself to calm him. It was obvious he was incredibly attached to Draco, but after some coaxing they had come to an understanding. Xander was determined to eat 'pi pa' and Hermione was adamant he was going to eat something more substantial.

"Nee? What the fuck is pi pa?"

"Fuck!" Xander laughed, repeating the curse so many times older witches and wizards were glowering at them.

"Malfoy! You can't say that in front of him. He'll repeat anything. He wants pizza and since this is a Wizarding establishment he'll have to settle for chicken and a bit of mash. Xander behave." Hermione scowled, yet poured some pumpkin juice into a small glass and held it to his lips.

"Like it!" Xander laughed, grabbing the glass with both hands and finishing it quickly.

"I have no bloody idea what I'm doing." Draco mumbled while perusing the menu with a disgruntled sigh.

"We'll figure it out together. I'll owl Andromeda and have her bring Teddy over for a spell. Perhaps we can have Victoire visit as well. I don't expect Xander has even met children his own age; it could be good for him. Of course we must finish shopping; he's in desperate need of clothing."

"We haven't even delegated him a room yet. He'll need toys as well. I'm sorry I sprung this on you…"

"He's family. Don't give it another thought. Did you finish the papers?" Hermione gestured with her fork, immediately diving into her salad, while Draco cut Xander's food into manageable pieces.

"They're on file with the Ministry. Lovely bit of magic, really. The moment I signed they disappeared. It seems as though Xander here is officially a Malfoy." Hermione leaned across the table, holding Xander's hand to keep him from flicking his mashed potatoes across the table.

"I gave him your name. I hope you don't mind." She studied the confusion etched in the furrow of his brows.

"Well, it would be strange if he were to remain a Granger when we're all Malfoys, wouldn't it then?" Draco took a large bite of dripping beef sandwich with a small shrug.

"Draco." His head popped up instantly. It wasn't often Hermione called him by his given name and he deduced it must be important. "Alexander Draco Malfoy."

Draco's sandwich dropped to his plate, unnoticed and a drop of jus dripped from the corner of his mouth to his chin. Hermione was suddenly nervous. She thought it was a sweet gesture when she had done it, but if he grew angry, she didn't know what she would do.

"Wh-why did you do that?" His voice but a whisper, barely heard above the idle chatter around them.

"I..I thought," Hermione took a deep breath and ruffled Xander's dark curls. "I thought if we were going to do this, to really do this, I wanted him to feel as much a part of our family as possible and I know he's related to me but I wanted you to feel included as well."

Draco's hand covered hers, threading their fingers together beside their plates. Xander immediately grabbed each of their hands, sliding them across the sticky wood.

"You did that for me?"

"I suppose I should have discussed the idea with you first. We've never spoken about naming our prospective children but…"

"I never thought of naming a child after myself."

"Do you hate it?" Hermione held her breath, worrying the corner of her lip and he almost smiled seeing her nervousness.

"Surprisingly…no." Draco quirked his head to the side, taking in the vision of dark curls in front of him.

Hermione leapt from her seat, kissed Xander on the forehead after smoothing his unruly curls and threw her arms around Draco. She had intended to embrace him from behind, but he had other ideas and quickly drew her down into his lap.

"I love you." Hermione whispered against his lips, kissing him soundly.

"I can't recall you ever saying that before. Tell me again." Draco kissed her pink cheeks while she laughed and Xander clapped.

Xander's claps grew louder as did his laughter and neither of his new parents were surprised when their glasses of pumpkin juice exploded. It seemed he was vacillating between surprise and tears but a boisterous witch ambled over quickly.

"No tears here, love. We're well equipped for unexpected underage magic." Her rosy cheeks and kindly green eyes had Xander chortling in delight when she conjured another glass of juice.

"Oh look dear, isn't it sweet? The Malfoys are a beautiful family, aren't they?" Hermione and Draco were startled by the intrusion, especially to find themselves gazing up at Millicent and Ron Weasley.

Hermione attempted to extricate herself from Draco's hold but he wasn't having it. He held her tight and even managed to pull Xander's chair closer to them as well. Draco's grey eyes narrowed with suspicion, though Ron Weasley never raised his head.

"Do you mind if we join you? Ronny here has something very important to say, don't you Ronny?" Millicent jabbed him none too gently in the ribs with an impressive elbow.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly as she stared upon the formidable witch. Millicent Bulstrode wasn't the same hulking woman she vaguely remembered from Hogwarts. She was still a large girl, there was no mistaking that, but she no longer looked like a linebacker. She had grown curves where curves actually belonged and her mousy brown hair had grown lustrous with streaks of gold.

Hermione hadn't had but a glimpse of the woman at her wedding before Draco was stating he'd had enough Weasleys for a lifetime and they'd left. She was surprised to see Millicent was almost…pretty. It was obvious she had been taught the proper usage of makeup and between that and the flattering robes, it was a lovely effect.

Draco gestured toward the two empty seats across from them completely expressionless. Xander on the other hand, had decided he quite disliked the flaming red haired wizard and squalled until Hermione removed him from his seat.

"No like it." Xander waved his hand furiously and Ron's ginger locks turned green. "All gone!"

"We've really got to teach him to control his impulses." Draco chuckled. He stood Xander on the chair beside him and one of the passing servers handed him a large cookie which quieted him down.

"I'm sure you're wondering why we've bothered you. I barely remember seeing you at our wedding. So much has happened since then. We really should catch up. It would be lovely to get together for a spot of tea with Astoria and Ginny, wouldn't it Hermione? Perhaps even a girl's night out. I'm sure we could all do with a night away from the men folk to drink away our cares." Millicent giggled and Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about it but managed a weak smile.

"Uhm, Millicent…"

"Please, call me Millie." Millie's dark eyes sparkled and Hermione was surprised to see no malice.

"Alright then Millie, I suppose a cup of tea could be lovely, perhaps later this week. A girl's night, while alluring is simply not…I mean…"

"Bulstrode, Hermione's pregnant, there shan't be any night out getting pissed. Stop it! Why are you hitting me? Is it a bloody secret now?" Hermione beat Draco's arms until he captured her hands, crushing her against his chest.

"You and him? Hermione, how could you?" A green haired Ron Weasley finally managed to speak albeit with a barely contained rage.

Before Draco could yank his wand from his pocket, Millie's was shoved beneath Ron's chin. Her eyes were almost pitch black with silent rage and the Malfoys watched in awe as it twisted and Ron's mouth closed with an audible snap.

"Don't pay him any mind. We've been having a lesson in proper manners. He's a slow learner, but I'm hoping eventually he'll be fit for society." Millie carefully laid her wand on the table and waved at Xander.

"No like it." Xander pointed at Ron and Millie nodded understandingly.

"I understand, dear. He hasn't been a very nice man, especially to Hermione here…"

"Mum-mum." Xander pointed at Hermione before leaving a sloppy crumb filled kiss on her cheek.

"Oh is he yours as well? Ronny here never told me."

Hermione and Draco looked to each other for the answer. They weren't prepared to discuss such matters. They had barely come to terms with it themselves.

"Da, go potty." Xander began doing a little dance on his chair. His tiny feet tapping against the smooth wood and Draco moved quickly.

Hermione was placed on her feet with a quick kiss upon her brow. Draco hurriedly picked up Xander and weaved through the scattered tables to take the child to the loo.

"I knew you were a cheating whore." Ron grumbled, his lip snarling in anger.

"Silenco." Millie flicked her wand almost lazily and winked at Hermione. "I've had just about enough of that. I've tried with this one, let me tell you. He's simply determined to remain angry and miserable. It's ridiculous really. We've a lovely yet modest home not far from the Burrow. I thought that would make him happy, Merlin knows he has an unhealthy attachment to his mother. He works with his brother George and I had to beg him to take Ron back on. He refused to entertain the idea of a holiday, not that I blame him really but he could bloody well try. Am I asking so much of him? I don't know what to do and I'm terribly sorry to lay this on you, it's obvious your hands are quite full. Congratulations by the way." Millie's voice broke and it was heartbreaking.

Hermione closed her eyes for a moment and took a cleansing breath. She had never been friends with Millicent and while the idea had never been appealing before, but these were different circumstances. Times had changed and it was easy to say they had changed; it was harder to act as if it were so.

"Is he drinking?" She finally whispered, her hand covering Millie's.

"He says he's not, but I can smell it on him sometimes and…"

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" It had seemed Ron had finally managed to utilise his training and remove the Silencing Charm. Personally, Hermione thought it took him entirely too long.

"Ron, you know you're supposed to take your Potion. Why are you doing this? You were doing so well. I don't understand what happened." Hermione was hard-pressed to keep from laughing at his shocking green hair but she managed.

"What does it matter? You've got this bloody fantastic life now, don't you? Harry and Stori have got their life and their kid. I'm sure they'll have loads more. It seems you've had an entire secret life with Malfoy and you've got a kid and another on the way and I've just fucked everything." Millie thought her new husband looked quite like a Yule tree with his Slytherin green hair and flaming red ears, but she focused on his words, hearing the hurt in his intonation.

"A perfect life? Are you bloody mental? People we knew, we went to school with are being murdered all around us and the only connection we've managed to suss together is that Harry and I both knew them. I've been targeted by a maniac. I got blown up for Godric's sake. My parents are in bloody Australia with their memories and wish nothing to do with me. They gave my husband my brother and said here, you keep him, we never wanted children anyway. If I wish to have a child with my husband that's my bloody right and you can stuff it." Hermione's chest was heaving by the time she was finished and from the gentle lull in the conversations around them, she surmised her voice had risen dramatically. Lowering her voice, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, Hermione continued "You were my friend Ron. You were one of my best friends and you ruined it because you couldn't come to terms with your life after the war. You couldn't come to terms with the fact that Harry and I had moved on. We grew up. We didn't want to leave you behind, our intention was never to move on from you, but you have to understand we didn't want to be angry children anymore. We didn't want to hold onto the prejudices and the hate. You made your choices, we made ours. You chose the drink and we chose to marry our Slytherins and try to carve out some sort of happiness. You've a wife now. I realise she may not be who you would have chosen, I apologise Millie, but that doesn't change the fact that she's your wife. Don't you realise you're not just hurting yourself anymore, you're hurting her and your family. If you want to wallow in your own misery, well have at it. It seems to have worked out really well for you, hasn't it? If you wish to finally grow up, take your bloody Potion, stop blaming your troubles on everyone else and take some bloody responsibility."

Hermione tore her eyes from a contrite Ron, her mood lightening considerably when she spied Xander walking calmly beside Draco. She hadn't realised she was smiling until Xander began frantically waving, struggling against the firm hand in his own.

"You really love him. Harry said and I tried to believe him but to see it myself is something…well its strange frankly but not necessarily wrong. You're right of course, you're always right. I'm embarrassed alright? I ran out of the bloody Potion and I didn't want Millie to know. I hate going there, feeling like some sort of degenerate. I mean, is it so fucking unreasonable for them to…"

"No fuck! Bad!" Xander had climbed back up onto his chair and threw the remaining piece of his cookie at Ron's head.

"Shit. Sorry! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it." Ron covered his head, preparing for the various hexes he was sure were going to strike him.

"Dit? Dit otay?"

"No Xander that word is not alright either. How about this, if you don't know the word, don't say it?" Draco sat beside his wife, allowing Xander to stand on his legs and refrained from some spouting vile words at the Weasel.

"Otay Da."

While there was a definite lull in the conversation, eventually it segued into stilted words and begrudgingly acknowledgements until Hermione was actually slightly hopeful her friendship with Ron could be salvaged. Eventually Hermione managed to finish her lunch while making plans with Millie for tea. Draco was still wary of Ron but the sake of his wife, he tried. Xander had fallen asleep on Hermione's shoulder and no matter how many times he tried to take the toddler, she'd held him tight.

*_Malfoy, Harry Potter requests your assistance. Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.*_

Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice was surprisingly gentle, which made Draco a bit nervous. No matter how many times he informed the Minister he had bloody quit, Kingsley refused to hear of it and beckoned to him whenever the mood struck. It seemed Harry Potter had returned from Australia, but what he was doing in Surrey was anyone's guess.

"Draco, that's…that's…Harry's childhood address." Hermione's voice quavered slightly and she willed herself not to cry.

"Nee, Shacklebolt already told us there was another and Potter wasn't the victim. It's alright. I've got to go. You know I don't want to anymore than you wish me too, but you know how he gets. Millie, Weasley, I can trust you to get them home safe yeah?" He didn't want to entrust his family to Ron Weasley but with Millie along, he felt a bit better about it. She was a quick draw when necessary and she handled Ron better than he'd ever seen.

"Malfoy, we still need to get Xander things and…"

"Nee, don't argue. I'll owl my mother. She'll take care of everything. I love you, go home." Draco hugged her quickly, tossed a handful of galleons on the table and whisked through the crowd.

Hermione stared at Xander who stared at Millie who glowered at Ron. It was uncomfortable until Ron smiled at the toddler. Xander hid his face in Hermione's curls, glancing at the green haired wizard every few seconds.

"I suppose it's up to us to get you home." Ron stood quite suddenly, offering Millie his arm and by the surprise on her face, Hermione surmised it was the first time he'd ever done such a thing.

"I just want to stop by the Tiny Tots shop and…"

"No way. Malfoy entrusted us to get you straight home, besides little man there looks completely knackered. There's only one thing I need to know." Ron studied Hermione's caramel eyes carefully, glancing between her and Xander.

"What's that then?" It was obvious she was quite put out. It wasn't often she was unable to do exactly what she wished.

"Where do you live? We've never been there."

* * *

Harry Potter surveyed the modest garden of number 4 Privet Drive with a practiced eye. This was not what he was expecting when he finally arrived back in England. As he studied the indentation in the damp grass, he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

He had managed to convince Wendell Wilkins to come along with him, though the man resolutely refused to answer to Paris Granger. It had taken him longer than he'd expected, but as an Auror he was used to such delays. His wife on the other hand had completely succumbed to a menagerie of tears, hurling herself into his arms due to the Minister's Patronus.

Astoria was less than pleased with Harry's explanations. He had done his best to calm her, but after she jinxed him, he hurried from his residence. Harry surmised Astoria would calm eventually. It wasn't as if she wasn't aware of his profession. He's an Auror for Godric's sake, she couldn't expect him to drop everything because she was lonely or James was cutting a tooth.

"Alright Potter, what the bloody hell am I doing here? You could have sent for Moretti. He's your partner. I keep telling you and Shacklebolt that I quit, but it seems the lot of you is incapable of listening." Harry barely glanced at the disgruntled wizard.

It seemed he couldn't take his eyes from the hulking form on the ground. Draco yanked on his polo shirt, slightly uncomfortable in Muggle attire. He knew the situation warranted it, but it didn't make him feel better. He much preferred his slacks and button downs to Muggle jeans and strange shirts he was forced to pull on over his head. They weren't even jumpers for Merlin's sake. Draco scoffed and prodded the deceased bloke's arm with his trainer.

"Malfoy, don't do that." Draco rolled his eyes and began walking around the man.

"You didn't answer my question Potter." Harry squatted beside the body, seemingly studying the thinning grey hair.

"I knew him."

"Apparently you've known all of them."

"Yeah, but this is different. I wanted Hermione or even Ron but Shacklebolt said you were the best I should expect in this matter." Harry had a half smile playing about the corner of his lips as he studied the seam of the tweed jacket. It was nearly split down the seam, which apparently amused him.

"Nee is heading home with Xander. I wouldn't want her here. She's pregnant you know. She keeps beating me for telling people. Pretend you don't know when she tells you. Millie and Ron are escorting her for me." Draco sat on the step of the home, waiting for Harry to pull himself out his stupor.

"I used to live here." He knew something was wrong with Harry, but he'd never seem him so detached. Draco glanced over his shoulder at the home and shrugged. It wasn't the worst place he'd ever seen, but having spent his childhood in Malfoy Manor, everything else seems to pale in comparision.

"Would you like me to send for the Cleaners? We could go inside and you should tell me all about your pitiful childhood."

"No, no Cleaners. I don't trust them. I can't trust them. I can't trust anyone. You don't understand Malfoy. This was where Hagrid brought me on Sirius Black's motorcycle. Dumbledore and McGonagall were here and they left me with the last bits of my family." Harry sighed heavily, falling back onto his heels.

"I-I didn't know that."

"Exactly. Everyone has heard of The Boy Who Lived and whatnot, I don't even care about that. They were my dirty little secret I suppose you'd call them. The Weasleys knew of them of course and Dumbledore but…"

"Potter, you're saying the maniac is closer to you than you'd like to admit." Draco stood up quickly and walked across the grass, ignoring the body.

He clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder and dragged him to his feet. Draco roughly pulled Harry into his childhood home, instantly sneezing from the layers of dust and dirt. He pushed Harry through the swinging door into the kitchen and pushed him onto one of the wood chairs beside the eating table.

"Potter, look at me. You're jumping to conclusions. You were the idiot who was adamant Molly Weasley was the culprit, which I still maintain is absolutely disgusting. I'm sure anyone could have discovered where you lived. It's not that bloody difficult, even if you did live as a Muggle. I'm going to suss us up some disgustingly old and dusty whisky, brandy, scotch, whatever I find and we're going to drink it while you compile a lovely list of who you've told. Then I'm going to owl Nott. As a Slytherin, we never gave a fuck where you lived, no offense Scarboy, but he's trust worthy." Draco left Harry at the table while he began scrounging through the cupboards.

Harry dropped his head to his hands, trying to process the information swirling through his brain. His elbows smudged through the thick layer of grim on the table and he blinked profusely. The fear of childhood coursed through him and he almost leapt from his position to begin the rigorous task of cleaning the home when he stopped. Calmly he surveyed the room with a practiced eye and almost smiled. The home was obviously abandoned and had fallen into disrepair and it was no longer his responsibility. Harry began to laugh and while Draco was quite terrified by the sound, it continued until tears were streaming from green eyes.

When Draco emerged swinging two very dusty bottles, Harry wiped his eyes and sat up straight. Draco's eyebrows rose slowly, while Harry's lip twitched.

"Potter, you're very strange." He slid a bottle across the table, as he twisted the cap off his own. "Did you know there's a little cupboard under the stairs? There's a bloody bed in there, what on earth was wrong with these Muggles?"

"That was my room." Harry winced as the whisky burned his throat and avoided the grey stare.

"Shut up. No one would do that. Sweet Salazar, you're not bloody kidding. What the actual fuck Potter?"

"They hated me obviously." Harry shrugged.

"Alright, well I suppose it won't make you feel any better to learn I had my own personal cell in the Malfoy dungeon. If you promise not to look at me like that ever again, I won't pity you either." Draco sipped his brandy, wiping the mouth with the edge of his shirt and winked.

"We had a completely fucked up childhood, didn't we?"

"Yes. Let's never speak of it again. So I'm assuming, the fat bastard in the garden was your relative. Granger would say something to the effect of..."Draco stood and then decided it would be best to kneel. "Harry Potter, you've got to allow yourself the proper time to mourn your loss. You might not know it yet, but if you don't deal with this properly you'll never heal."

"Hermione's taller than that."

"Yes well I did the best I could. Personally I say good riddance. Why would our serial psychotic murder a relative of yours anyway? It's not like you're attached to them or anything. They have a better chance of getting a proper reaction if they killed Nee's father. You lot seemed to have a lovely rapport."

Harry knocked his bottle over, not even flinching as it shattered and the amber liquid soaked the leg of his slacks. He stood up on shaky limbs and swallowed hard.

"Malfoy, we've got to get back."

"Sit down Potter, Nott hasn't even arrived yet. What's your hurry?" Draco casually tossed his feet onto the table, prepared to drink until Theo arrived.

"I…I brought Wendell with me. I stayed behind to convince him to visit Hermione one last time. He agreed. I've got him stashed at a flat in Muggle London as his former house was sold years ago." Harry was already removing his wand from his back pocket, preparing to Apparate when Draco caught his arm.

"Potter, if he's stashed away, why are you so nervous? What do you know?" Harry wrenched his arm free, quickly stalking down the corridor and throwing open the front door.

"That man there was my uncle, Vernon Dursley. He was the worst of the bunch really, but my cousin is never going to forgive me for this. I suppose it doesn't matter not really, but we have a civil sort of relationship and I thought…well I don't know what I thought but…" Draco caught Harry about the waist just as the wizard's knees crumbled and sat him on the curb roughly.

Theo Nott jaunted from the back garden, twirling his wand in his fingers, his robes casually tossed over his arm. He glanced at the body and rolled his dark eyes.

"Now that's a fat bastard."

"Dammit Nott, you scared the shit out of me."

"Haven't. I'd notice. So, what are we to do with him then? Have the Investigators inspected the area already? Where's Moretti? Why isn't Chang here? You don't expect me to deal with this fat bastard on my own do you?" Theo knelt in the grass and attempted to roll Vernon Dursley onto his back, without the use of magic which was lunacy.

"Oi, Nott show a little respect. That's Potter's relative there. We haven't contacted anyone and I think Potter would prefer it that way. He seems to believe our culprit has intimate information." Theo flicked his wand and Vernon Dursley was on his back with his shirt spread.

"Doesn't look like he put up a bit of a fuss. There isn't any post-mortem trauma which is for the best. Looks like it was quick and painless, Potter. I would suggest having Moretti come out. He couldn't possibly be our suspect, he's an American for one and he doesn't know shit about our history for another." Theo stared at the ragged edges of the few runes carved into the bulbous stomach and shuddered. "I'd ask for Pansy as well. She's a Slytherin."

"Malfoy." Harry sputtered in the seconds before the contents of his stomach were expelled upon the small brush. "Four people. I've only ever trusted four people with the secrets of my childhood."

"Dead or alive Potter?" Draco tossed Harry an embroidered handkerchief and tapped his trainer against the stone.

"Listen, whether others found out is something else, I can't control that at all. I've spoken of it to Sirius of course but he's dead. The members of the Order of the Phoenix were aware of some of my blighted history but…"

"Potter, for the love of Merlin, get to the point." Draco could hear Hermione's voice in his head, telling him to be patient yet it was an impossibility. He simply wasn't a patient person and had little interest in listening to Harry Potter sputter through his entire childhood recollections.

"I don't trust myself Malfoy. I was wrong when it came to Molly and if I'm wrong again well…"

"Alright listen Potter. None of us are going to run to the Daily Prophet with your suspicions." Draco whistled, calling Theo over.

"If I'm right, I don't know what I'll do and if I'm wrong…" Harry's clutched his chest, the anxiety taking a physical toll on his person.

"I'm going to hex him." Draco struggled to contain his anger, but he was losing the battle.

"I'm going to help you if that makes it any better?" Theo grumbled, wiping a light sheen of sweat from his brow.

"Ron, Hermione, Cho and Astoria." Harry finally breathed before heaving into the brushes.

"Why the fuck would you tell Chang anything? She's a strange bird." Theo flicked his wand, closing Vernon's shirt as the sight offended him.

"I dated her, sort of after Cedric and…"

"Potter, let's entertain this for a moment. What would be her motivation? Even you have to admit these are some pretty heinous crimes, which are obviously directed toward you, but why?" Draco surreptitiously sent a Patronus to Pansy requesting her presence while contemplating this new bit of information.

Harry scratched his head, hoping his stomach would stop punishing him. He bet Hermione would be able to deduce a motive without batting an eye, but he definitely wasn't Hermione. He hadn't had a very long relationship with Cho, if it could even be called that, but they had forged a friendship. Harry had confided in her and he had listened when she had spoken of Cedric Diggory with fondness. He couldn't fathom a single reason why Cho Chang would wish to wreck such havoc upon his life.

"Maybe she just despises his very existence because she never got over Diggory's death. I mean, you have to admit, if the Boy Wonder hadn't been so chivalrous and Gryffindor about it, Diggory never would have been in the graveyard." Theo yawned, obviously bored and waved at a frazzled Pansy as she came up to the home.

"Where the fuck is Chang? Why isn't Moretti here? Did those wankers decide they had better things to do than their job?" Pansy Parkinson Longbottom immediately began complaining while surveying the front garden.

"We decided to keep things very Slytherin today. All you need to do is take a few photographs of the carvings on his chest and we'll check the posterior as well. We'd prefer it if you kept this to yourself. It's a sensitive matter for Potter's family." Pansy ignored the strange look of bewilderment on the Chosen Boy's face and nodded curtly at Theo.

She traipsed across the grass and tucked her long dark hair behind her ear. She inspected every inch of the burgeoning girth without a single comment. Draco and Harry remained on the steps, observing her in quiet introspection. Draco disliked the idea of their main suspect being a respected member of their team, but he remained open to the possibility. It was easier for him considering he had never suspected his godfather had been a spy for the Order. It proved to him people were capable of truly anything. Harry on the other hand, was having difficulty stomaching such a betrayal, yet the more he considered it, the more he came to terms with the thought.

"Did you know she was quite good friends with Marietta?" Harry whispered, prodding Draco's knee with his own.

"Who the fuck is Marietta?"

"Edgecombe. The first victim. I spoke to Ginny, don't tell Astoria, but apparently Chang dated Corner at one time."

"Ginny's fat." Draco snorted before running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to go home and revel in his wife's pregnancy and strangely enough, give Xander a bath.

"She's not fat. Apparently she finally managed to get Goyle to sleep with her. She's pregnant with twins from their first go. Molly almost had a conniption. Didn't you ever wonder why they were practically thrown toward the altar?"

"Not at all because I don't care. I've been thinking about it Potter, and Nott certainly has a valid point. If you think about it almost all of the victims had something to do with the TriWizard Championship." Draco nonchalantly Accio'd his bottle of brandy and took a small sip. Harry turned a light shade of green, which pleased Draco immensely.

"I can't imagine her doing this though. I mean, isn't she married? I thought she had a child as well." Harry rubbed his scar, as was his habit and groaned.

"You lot speaking about Chang?" Pansy interjected after shoving her wand in the strap on her thigh.

"What's it to you?"

"Nothing at all Malfoy, just if your kid dies, are you still a mother?" Pansy flopped into the grass beside Vernon, her nose scrunched in disgust.

"Whatever are you going on about?" Harry's palms began sweating and he couldn't be sure if it was from being anxious or the excitement of incite.

"It's just something I overheard Hannah speaking about with Mrs. Weasley." Pansy tossed her hair, waiting until all eyes were centered on her. "Apparently Chang was married to some Muggle and there was a terrible accident. Mrs. Weasley was quite broken up about it since she was friends with the bloke, I can't remember his name but…"

"John." Harry whispered, his hands clasped in his lap with a lump in his throat.

"Exactly, so anyway, it was quite a terrible accident and Chang's son was with her husband and they both expired at the scene. It was a right mess from what I heard and…"

"That's enough Pansy." Draco swallowed hard, trying to imagine the pain of losing his wife and child in the blink of an eye.

Draco remembered the incident quite well. He and Harry hadn't been working together long and they hadn't formed a working relationship yet, let alone a camaraderie. They were often discovered in sullen silence, each resolutely stubborn, until they were called to the scene of a Muggle accident.

Molly Weasley was being restrained by the Minister for Magic and Arthur, yet she continued flailing against them. They were refused the use of magic, despite her bellows. Draco remembered seeing the bits of twisted metal, his first memory of a Muggle automobile no less. He had vomited on the Minister's shoes, making Potter laugh. It seemed inappropriate laughter was one of the many quirks of Harry Potter. Molly had clutched the lapels of his blazer and begged him to do something, anything, yet there was nothing to be done.

John and Henry Wells were on their way home in the midst of dinner hour. It seemed the level crossing failed and John was perhaps distracted by the young toddler behind him. There was no way to know what had truly happened. At the end of the day, John Wells vehicle stalled and he was unable to retrieve his son before the rail crashed into them.

Draco remembered it had taken hours for the Muggles to scour through the wreckage and confirm that John and Henry Wells had in fact been inside the vehicle at the time of collision. He and Harry were delegated to calming Mrs. Weasley until she began to demand they simply levitate the offending wreckage to find her friend.

Draco never knew it was Cho Chang's family that Molly Weasley so desperately mourned. He supposed the Minister had kept it quiet for the sake of respect and he understood it at the time. The war was still so fresh in people's minds; it was a natural conclusion to a terrible circumstance.

"Malfoy, I can't be here any longer. I need to check on Wendell and if it's not too much of an imposition, I'd like…"

"Come along Potter. We'll go and see Wendell and then we'll go to my place. I'm sure Hermione would love to see you." Draco offered his hand to Harry as he stood.

Harry stared at it for a moment, his lip twitching at an old memory before he grasped it, pulling himself to his feet.

"What if he's gone?" Harry and Draco walked down Privet Drive side by side, neither bothering to give further instructions to Pansy and Theo.

"Why would he be gone? How many people know he's even here?" Draco sighed as the day's events were taking their emotional toll.

"I sent owls to the entire team." Harry's shoulders slumped and even Draco didn't have the heart to speak his mind.

* * *

Hermione Malfoy had long since given up on persuading her guests to leave. They were absolutely determined to keep her company until Draco returned. Narcissa had received Draco's hastily scrawled owl and brought it upon herself to drag Lucius to Forest Lake as well.

Hermione appreciated the multitude of gifts for Xander who was instantly overwhelmed with the amount of attention as well as affection, but she was tired. Xander napped in her lap, refusing to allow her to place him in his new bed. He clung to her sniffling while Narcissa decorated his new bedroom in silver and green, no matter how much it was protested.

"Don't be silly. He's a proper Malfoy now and all Malfoys are in Slytherin. It's best he get used to the idea at a young age." Hermione didn't have the energy to argue with her mother-in-law, deciding she would take the issue up with Draco when he returned.

Xander had already made it abundantly clear he wanted nothing to do with the colour red. It seemed Ron's hair offended him greatly. Whenever he saw the colour he screamed until the lights were extinguished. Ron was quite put out, his hair still a mottled shade of green.

Ron was trying, Hermione had to give him that much. He still managed to mumble disparagingly under his breath about being in the house of a Slytherin, but he was quite impressed by the Potions lab. Hermione truly believed she was living in an alternate reality when Lucius and Ron were discovered discussing the merits of Hermione's salve over glasses of firewhisky.

"Yeah, but Lucius this stuff is only for Death Eaters. Alright, alright, _former_ Death Eaters, it's not like there's a big market for it or anything. Besides Mione made it for Malfoy and…"

"Mr. Weasley, do not limit yourself by your prejudices. I suspect there are many witches and wizards who wish to rid themselves of the scars of their lifetime. I suppose there are many who were scarred by Dark Magic, but even Mr. Potter could benefit from this delightful concoction."

"I can't even bloody argue with that." Hermione chuckled lightly, hiding herself behind Xander's hair.

She couldn't believe how easy it was to love the little boy in her arms. Hermione knew he was her brother, but she'd never felt a familial connection with her parents so it was unexpected to feel so strongly for Xander.

"It's completely natural to feel conflicted." Hermione gasped, squeezing Xander a bit too tightly, making him squirm.

"Luna. I was so sure you had left. I didn't want to wake you this morning and I'm sorry I left without saying anything but…"

"Hermione, I'm perfectly capable of managing just fine. I did however completely gorge myself on those lovely scones." Luna Zabini twisted and pulled her long blonde hair with that starry gaze in her eyes.

Luna snuggled into Hermione's side, her fingertips gently stroking Xander's cheeks. She smoothed the crease of his forehead with her thumb, inhaling his sweet scent with a sigh.

"I hope Blaise and I have a boy. I wouldn't know what to do with a girl." Hermione toyed with the ends of Luna's hair, taking long tired blinks.

"I wouldn't know what to do with either quite frankly, but I'm sure enough books on the subject exist." Just as Hermione's eyes closed, Xander's opened.

He glanced between Hermione and Luna while rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He patted Hermione's cheek before climbing from her arms into Luna's.

"I hungee." Luna's magical laughter filled the sitting room.

She held Xander against her breast while managing to dislodge herself from her comfortable position beside Hermione. She swayed as she walked with the toddler as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Now, what do little Xander's like to eat?" Luna pecked his forehead and smiled at all the occupants of the kitchen.

She barely blinked her blue eyes upon spying Ron Weasley and Lucius Malfoy sitting in the breakfast nook nibbling on chocolate biscuits. Millie Weasley was staring out the window over the sink basin, ignoring the subtle clink of china as it washed itself.

"Uhmm, have pi pa?"

"What the fu…"

"NO!" Xander covered Luna's mouth with his chubby hands, his blue eyes wide. "Da no fuck."

Lucius snorted into his glass, remembering when his son had discovered the joys of naughty language fondly.

"I believe what the child is attempting to communicate is Draco has already spoken with him regarding inappropriate language. It would be best to watch your tongue as small children have a tendency to repeat everything." Lucius lazily sipped the amber liquid, deciding it simply did not mesh with chocolate biscuits after all.

"Pizza. He wants pizza." Ron piped up, pushing away his glass of juice. It was easier to allow Lucius Malfoy to believe he had been drinking with him than to tell him the truth. Ron didn't relish the idea of being on the receiving end of a tongue lashing dedicated to his inability to properly hold his liquor.

"I don't know what that is, Ron."

"I'll take care of it. What do you like on it then Xan?" Ron approached the child slowly as his hair still hadn't recovered.

"You eat my pi pa?"

"No no! I didn't eat your pizza. I'm going to get you a pizza. I swear." Ron backed away slowly, hoping he wasn't inadvertently hexed by an angry three year old.

"Otay. Pi pa and roni and uhmm apple." Xander nodded quickly, his lips smacking together hungrily.

"Ronny, how do you do what he's saying?" Millie touched Ron's shoulder lightly with an obvious sort of awe in her dark eyes. Ron blushed under the scrutiny, the tips of his ears turning red.

"Oh uhm, it's nothing. Ginny's the youngest and well yeah. Xander here just wants a pizza with pepperoni and pineapple. I can't really say if it's good or not, but I'll just go and get it then." Ron practically ran down to the Travel Room, thankful to be useful and even more thankful he wasn't hexed.

Narcissa finally made her way into the sitting room and smiled at the sight of a slumbering Hermione. She had half a mind to levitate the poor witch to bed, but the way her arms cradled her abdomen stopped the Matriarch in her tracks. Instead, Narcissa's heeled boots clipped across the floor slowly before she dropped a lightweight coverlet over Hermione and retreated to the kitchen.

"Ohh hello Xander. Would you like to see your room?" Narcissa crooned, her arms itching to be filled with toddler, but Xander wasn't having any of it.

"No, want my pi pa." Xander squirmed his way out of Luna's wispy arms and walked over to Lucius. He pulled on the dark pant leg expectantly. Lucius spared the boy a glance with a sigh.

"What do you want?" He took in the boy's unruly curls, no doubt inherited from his mother and his bright blue curious eyes without a sneer.

"Up." Xander demanded, stamping his foot.

"I don't wish to pick you up. Children are quite sticky." Xander shrugged his little shoulders and decided the best place for him to sit was on Lucius Malfoy's foot.

Ron rushed into Forest Lake carrying numerous boxes of pizza which he promptly dropped on the eating table. He practically collapsed onto the nook bench, his chest heaving as he sucked in lungfuls of oxygen.

"Crikey Ron, how many did you get and however were you that quick about it?" Luna peered into the top box staring at the melted cheese and tomato sauce concoction.

"I used magic, don't tell. I didn't want the little man to get angry."

"Ohhh my pi pa!" Xander didn't bother asking Lucius; instead he clambered into his lap and slapped his palms onto the table until Ron slid a small plate in front of him with a large piece of pizza. Millie was quite pleased Ron had enough sense to cool the strange food first.

When Hermione awoke from her much needed nap, she wandered into the kitchen and laughed. The perfectly coiffed Narcissa Malfoy and absolutely regal Lucius Malfoy were smattered in bits of tomato sauce, cheese and handprints. Ron was having a very serious conversation with Xander, trying to convince him that since tomato sauce and his hair were the same colour, Xander shouldn't hate red.

"What on earth happened in here?"

"Xander happened. Xander and fucking pi pa." Millie groaned, the side of her face against one of the bottom cupboards.

"Mum, no fuck." Xander gestured angrily at Millie before shoving the crust of his pizza in his mouth.

"I don't even care if I get hexed. I'm too bloody tired. Your son is definitely a Malfoy. I need a bath. I need a drink. I need to go home." Millie was on the verge of tears and while Hermione felt a pang of pity for the witch, she couldn't resist the laughter which bubbled forth.

"I'm sorry, it's terrible of me, I know it is, but you all…look so ridiculous."

"Mum, pi pa, eat it." Xander had climbed onto the table and opened one of the pizza boxes. Carefully he balanced the slice on his small hands and then flung it at Hermione.

She quite expected it to land on the floor, yet contrary to belief, it hit her on the forehead. She struggled to catch the piece, and barely managed before she was forced to wipe tomato sauce from her eyes.

"Yeah, it's not so funny now is it?" Ron snorted and offered Millie a hand. He tossed his arm around his wife's shoulders and waved at the filthy Malfoys.

Draco and Harry burst through the front door of Forest Lake, shoving each other as they ran down the corridor. Their feet skid upon the tile in their hurry. Harry and Draco looked at the guests and then each other before turning to Hermione. Hermione was nibbling the slice of pizza, paying no mind to their intrusion.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, it's my fault. I should have left him in Australia…I didn't…"

"Harry? I don't understand…" A shiver worked its way down her spine as Draco cupped her face in his hands.

"Potter convinced your father to have a visit before his memories were removed. He had him stashed in a flat in Muggle London. After we were finished in Surrey we went to check on him, but he was a gone. There was a bit of blood and well…" Draco gulped, watching the colour fade from his wife's cheeks.

"You think the killer's taken him." Harry nodded slowly, feeling a bit ill once more.

Hermione nodded continuously nodding her head as she processed the information. She rocked on her heels slightly, her long green skirt swirling around her feet. Draco kept her close even as her knees buckled. He sunk down to the floor with her, smoothing her curls and kissing her temple. Hermione hadn't realised she was crying until an angry Xander kicked her shin.

His sticky red hands were on his hips and his brows were drawn together in a deep frown. Hermione snatched him off his feet but he remained stiff in her arms. His hands began slapping her face and her arms, his cheeks reddened with anger.

"No! No cwy. You bad! Go room. NO CWY!" Xander shouted over and over, bucking against the hands holding him tight.

Draco was confused and concerned by his actions. From his position on the floor, he was unable to properly restrain Xander and it seemed Hermione was completely at ease with the madness. He wrapped his arms around Hermione and Xander and heard her crooning to him so sweetly it almost broke his heart.

"You poor baby, whatever did they do to you? You don't need to worry about them any longer. They can't hurt you anymore. We're here now, my love. It'll be alright, I promise."


	22. Conceptualising Chang

**AN: Ugh, I realise this chapter has taken me almost forever, but hey..it's done now, so yay. There are probably errors as I only did a quick proofread so try not to throw a fit about them mmk. As always, thanks for reading. Oh yeah, mature content ahead...and stuff.*kisses***

* * *

Chapter 22 – Conceptualising Chang

* * *

Nick Moretti pretended he was perfectly satisfied with his new life in Britain and his new wife for that matter, but it was the furthest thing from the truth. He was downright miserable, but it seemed all the wizards and witches with whom he was acquainted were suffering from the same ailment of discontent. He had broken his cardinal rule of kindness and magicked Daphne in the basement of the small cottage he'd finally purchased. It was a nice home, plenty of room for the two of them but of course Daphne wanted bigger and grander, something more fitting for a woman of her pureblood stature. Nick ignored her protests, as he ignored most everything she said and shown her to her room.

She was quite a striking witch, of that there was no doubt, yet the moment she opened her mouth he was hard pressed not to slap her. He had felt guilty for locking her in the basement for but a moment. It was better than striking her or even shouting. He had shouted at her and while he hoped his point was made, the flicker of pain before her cold mask was secured into place haunted him.

Nick calmed sipped his pint and tossed another handful of singles onto the stage. He had to admit, the gentlemen's clubs in England were classier than the places he'd frequented in the States. He had an affinity for privately wicked women, but he kept that secret to himself.

There was a knockout blonde making the circuit. Her long hair brushed the cheeks of her bare arse, the sway of her hips was as alluring as the smile on her plump lips. She set her eyes on Nick, winking from across the stuffy room and sashayed her way toward him.

Nick closed his bright eyes, inhaling deeply as the smell of vanilla and sweat permeated his nostrils. He wasn't the sort of man to even consider straying from his relationship, but these were special circumstances. It wasn't as if he and Daphne had even consummated their marriage, they hadn't. She refused to allow him to touch her, as she was still quite set on winning back the prize of Draco Malfoy. Nick had shrugged off her angry tirades until that morning.

"_That's enough now. I've listened to you bitch and moan like you're just sumthin' special, but let's just face it Daph, youse just the same as everyone else. Sure you're pretty but that's all you got goin' for you. You're mean for no other reason than you like it. What does that say about you? You really think Draco Malfoy is gonna leave Hermione for the likes of you? You're foolin' yourself and it's gettin' embarrassin'. I feel sorry for you." Nick sighed heavily waiting for the shriek of rage._

"_You feel sorry for me? That's ridiculous. I'm Daphne Greengrass and you're just some bloody American with the manners of a heathen. Draco loved me once, he'll love me again. Mark my words, he'll toss aside that disgusting Mudbloo…" Nick had slapped her then. Not too hard, but hard enough to stop her from spouting her pureblood superiority laced with hatred._

"_Hermione is twice the woman you'll ever be and I'm bein' conservative. Yannow, I tried tawkin' with the Minister for you. I thought maybe you wouldn't be such a bitch if you had a wand. I doan know what I was thinkin'. Youse a selfish witch Daph. You ain't eva gonna change and I ain't waitin anymore. Youse gonna stay in the basement 'til I get back, then I'll decide what I'm gonna do wit you." Nick shoved her along, finally dragging her down the stairs into one of the smaller rooms in their basement._

_He had placed a twin bed against one wall and had a sink installed so she would at least have access to water. Daphne hissed and fought against him, but she was no match to the stronger wizard. He unceremoniously tossed her onto the bed and turned to leave._

"_Y-you can't leave me here." It was almost poetic to listen to the fear in Daphne's voice._

"_I can. I will. You'll stay here until you finally learn." Nick rolled his eyes and licked his lips._

"_Learn what?" Daphne's dark eyes flicked around the small room in horror but also fear._

"_You're not any better than anyone else and it's time for you to stop being worse."_

Nick Moretti shoved thoughts of his horrible wife out of his mind while the sexy blonde gyrated on his lap. Her breasts brushed his cheek and in a moment of spontaneity, his tongue flicked across her skin. She pulled away quickly, shocked at his behaviour, but he knew she enjoyed it by the darkening of her eyes.

"You can't do that here." She whispered furiously in his ear. Nick grasped her hard thighs and pulled her into his lap, with an easy smile.

"So, where can I do it?" She hurriedly removed herself from his lap and damned if she wasn't blushing. It amused him to a certain extent. It wasn't often he came across women who readily disrobed for money who were easily embarrassed.

Nick knew it was dangerous, but he was beyond caring. He was aching to be suspended from his Auror duties. He was practically begging the Minister daily to send him back to America. So Nick smiled, gathered the busty blonde in his thick strong arms and Disapparated.

"I've done that before!" The blonde laughed, stumbling quite a bit in her ridiculously high stiletto shoes.

"Sure you have sweetheart." Nick laughed, enjoying the view while her shoes clipped loudly across the hardwood. He knew it would drive Daphne fucking crazy which was part of his delight.

"No really, I have. In fact, it was this cute little…"

"Honey, I didn't bring you here to talk." She giggled them, which suited Nick just fine.

Every step he took forward, she took one back, smiling shyly. When her knees hit the side of the bed, she removed what pass for her top and sat primly on the edge.

"You do this a lot?" Nick didn't really care, he was simply curious.

"No, but I've had my eye on you, seen you about quite a lot lately. Bit of trouble at home?" She laughed untying the strings on her hips to remove her minuscule knickers.

Nick shrugged; a noncommittal answer if there ever was one and lowered his mouth to her perky breast. He tried to rationalize it to himself. It wasn't as if he were truly cheating. It wasn't as if he and Daphne had a marriage in the truest sense. He was simply shackled to her for the next few years. He hadn't been with a woman since before he had set foot on British soil. Perhaps this was an act that could send him hurtling back to America.

Daphne Greengrass Moretti pounded the heavy oak door with furious fists as the boisterous sounds of lovemaking assailed her senses. She honestly never thought Nick Moretti had it in him. She would have expected as much from a wizard such as Draco, but secretly she believed Nick had respect for the sanctity of marriage, even if it was a farce.

Unintentionally, she ruminated on the things Nick had said and while she wasn't willing to admit anything he said was true, she had a sinking feeling he was right. She hated him for it. She hated him for thrusting her failure in her face. She hated him for making valid arguments. She hated him for being kind to her when she didn't deserve it. She hated him for bringing Millie over to visit. She hated Millie too. Millie was supposed to be just as miserable but she had to go and like the bloody Weasley.

Hours later, Nick Moretti unlocked the door, his face pale and sickly. He continuously wiped the sweat from his brow as he waited for Daphne to stomp past him. She strode up the stairs quickly, barely sparing him a glance, yet stopped short in the cozy dining area.

"What the hell is this?" Daphne gestured toward the seemingly sleeping, barely clad blonde woman bound to a hard backed chair.

"I think I fucked up." Nick grabbed Daphne's arm hard and she fell against him. "It's your fucking fault. You and your prissy attitude, dose tight dresses that leave little to the imagination. I've let you wauk all ova me long anuff." Nick captured Daphne's wrists behind her back with one hand, fondling her breasts through the clinging material of her forest green dress.

There was something about his demanding anger that was exhilarating. Daphne was torn between the want to slap him and grind into him. He was quite a handsome man, even if she despised admitting it. He had never been cruel to her, even if she had deserved it, but in this moment, his animalist nature was enthralling. She didn't even scream when he tossed her over his shoulder, nor when he threw her in her bedroom. Without a wand, there wasn't much she could do and they both knew it.

"You just fucked a slag and you expect me to what? Spread my legs for you to consummate this farce of a marriage? You're bloody insane." Daphne's voice wavered and of course Nick noticed.

"I didn't fuck her. I thought about it, I almost did, but why fuck some random slut when I've a perfectly good wife? Take off your dress." Nick unbuttoned his dress shirt and dropped his slacks to the floor, his eyes never leaving Daphne's heaving cleavage.

"No! Absolutely not! Y-you hate me. You can't…"

"I can still hate you while I fuck you. Take off the dress or I'm ripping it off." Daphne could feel his warm breath across her cheek, yet she still refused to yield. "Last chance, take it off or suffer the consequences." Nick managed a small smile when his forefinger brushed across her ample cleavage and she held her breath.

Finally resorting to magic, Nick vanished her green dress, leaving Daphne in matching green knickers and a corset of all things. She gasped, instantly spinning around to cover herself with the crisp white sheet across her bed, but Nick was faster. He shoved her onto her stomach, keeping a firm hand between her shoulder blades.

"You've been quite the naughty witch." Nick Moretti was a man on a mission. He was determined to have his wife and it seemed her struggles had lessened considerably.

He tugged on her knickers, dragging them down her thighs and ran his free hand over the smooth curve of her arse before smacking it, hard. Daphne struggled against his hold, her legs kicking furiously.

"Stop it! You're mad! Absolutely mad!" Daphne's cries fell on deaf ears as Nick continued his exploration.

It was relatively easy for him to remove her corset and he enjoyed vacillating between pain and pleasure. Daphne, refused to admit it was exhilarating to be pinned to the bed, never knowing if his fingers would caress or strike.

"Are you going to be a good little wife now?" Nick's fingertips danced across the backs of her thighs, causing him to smirk when Daphne spread her legs slightly, almost in an invitation.

"I don't wish to be married to you." Daphne spat, earning her another harsh smack upon her bum.

"Are you sure? Good little wives get rewarded." Nick lightly brushed the apex of her thighs, listening to Daphne's harsh breaths.

Her hands were clenched into fists on the sheets, her breaths in short gasps. She had never succumbed to any wizards demands before, yet Nick's feather light touches were driving her mad. She stifled a groan when he shoved her legs apart, silently begging him to touch her.

"Roll over." Daphne hadn't even realised he had released her and her first instinct was to bolt from the room with the tiny shreds of her pride, but she didn't. For the first time in her life, Daphne Greengrass simply did as she was told.

She rolled onto her back slowly, her eyes shut and her limbs trembling. Nick admired his wife's naked form with an appreciative eye before he began to explore. His knuckle brushed across a taut peak causing Daphne's back to arch off the mattress. His mouth quickly followed, he never had been able to resist large pert breasts and he was quite glad his Ministry mandated wife was in possession of such orbs. His hand snaked between her thighs before Daphne could catch her breath and it wasn't but a moment later she was keening, as she bucked into his hand.

It was second nature to struggle when she felt his naked thighs, nudging hers apart. Daphne's eyes flew open and her hands were pinned over her head, Nick towering over her.

"Please…don't." Nick kissed her then, hard and unforgiving, lips gnashing against teeth before plunging his tongue into her mouth. He slid between her thighs, sheathing himself quickly, catching her scream in his mouth.

It hurt more than she expected it too. It wasn't as if she'd never done it before, but it had only been once so many years ago, it was as if it were her first time all over again. Nick remained still, studying the pained expression on his wife's face that he didn't fully understand.

"You've done this before yeah?"

"Once…a…a long t-time ago." Daphne whispered, adjusting to the sensation of Nick's achingly slow movements. Nick dropped his head to her neck, biting it hard.

"Oh baby, you're so fucking good."

Afterwards, while Daphne was firmly held against the chest of her husband, she frowned, unsure how she felt about the entire encounter. Nick was amusing himself by hefting the weight of her left breast in his hand and tweaking the nipple.

"I've decided you ain't stayin in here no more. Youse movin' into my room. I like a headstrong witch and all, but really Daphne you take the cake. So until you can learn how to be a good little wife, we're gone be doin' this every day."

"Tell me you used a protection charm." Nick hopped up from the bed and tossed her a sheer cream robe.

"Nope. No need for that nonsense. Come on, get up." As Daphne's bum was still smarting from her last 'punishment' she quickly donned the robe and followed him into the dining room.

"Why is that Muggle here?" Daphne finally asked, tossing her dark hair over her shoulder.

"We hafta ask her some questions when that Sleeping Potion wears off. Auror business. Come sit on my lap." Nick sat in one of the high backed chairs and slapped his jean clad thighs.

"Haven't you had enough? Haven't I been debased enough for today?" Daphne crossed her arms over her breasts, hiding them from view.

"This isn't for me. It's for you. I know you didn't finish." Nick wiggled his eyebrows and patted his lap once more.

"What do you mean I didn't finish?" The confusion on her face would have amused him immensely, if it weren't so heartbreakingly sad.

"Daphne, doan make me repeat myself." Daphne gritted her teeth, yet slowly approached him until she was dragged into his lap.

She wasn't particularly comfortable, but that changed when he wrenched open her legs, until they dangled over his. Nick spread her robe, leaving it tied at the waist until her breasts were exposed. He did enjoy the view over her shoulder and nipped her throat.

"Lean back on me." He whispered in her ear, licking her earlobe.

"I don't like this." Nick was aware of the fact Daphne felt completely exposed, but that was his purpose. He wanted her to relinquish her control.

"You will." Her head lolled on his shoulder while his hand made its way up her thigh. He teased her folds gently until she relaxed against him.

The perfect circles made her skin hot and her nipples pebbled into hardened rocks. Nick fondled her breasts while applying pressure to the rigid nub beneath his fingertip. Her thighs had begun to quake and he stopped his ministrations with a smirk.

"Wait what? Don't stop…" He chuckled lightly while Daphne whined. He'd never heard her voice husky with want, nor her skin flushed.

He pushed her to her feet and spun her around. Daphne felt the edge of the table against her bum and leaned against it, unable to trust her legs to keep her upright. She allowed Nick to push her onto her back, feeling a bit as if she were on display while her legs dangled off the table. Her first instinct was to clench her legs closed at the knees when she felt his hot breath on the insides of her thighs, but it was impossible.

Nick Moretti wished he had known how responsive Daphne could be while his tongue delved into her warm heat. He also wished he hadn't wasted so much time and consummated his marriage months earlier, especially when he felt Daphne spasm her release.

"I'm scarred for life, thanks Moretti." Harry Potter, looking decidedly green around the gills stepped out of the Floo.

Daphne shrieked and ran from the room with her sheer robe billowing out behind her. Nick smiled and wiped his mouth before heading off to the loo without a word.

"What the fuck have I walked into? Oh look, a mostly naked Muggle and Nick Moretti pleasuring his wife on the table."

"Hey Potter, I've heard plenty a stories of the places you and Malfoy molest your wives." Harry was thankful Nick had donned a shirt and sighed.

"Moretti, why is there a half naked Muggle bound to a chair?"

"She was drunk off her ass last night, dude. She tawks a lot which is aiight I suppose, but you'll never guess what she said." Nick gestured toward one of the dining chairs and Harry sat in one warily, hoping they hadn't defaced this chair as well.

"Why don't you just bloody tell me?"

"Well, I broke some rules and whatnot. I went to one of dose strip clubs and Apparated her here. Shuddup. She tole me she'd done that before but I ignored her, until she kept tellin' bout this little Asian chick who took her home one time. It seems da witch was into some kinky shit and ripped a buncha her hairs out. Now, iunno bout you but…"

"She could be Susannah. I mean, not the killer obviously, but she could give us information about the killer. She's met her and perhaps Chang said something…" Harry's eyes widened, his brain quickly sifting through the new information as a leaden feeling settled in his chest.

Harry still hadn't the chance to discuss Chang's motive with Hermione, but that was to be expected. The Aurors had spent most of the day scouring London for a single trace of Wendell Wilkins to come up completely empty. It was as if the man had disappeared off the face of the earth, which wasn't as farfetched an idea as Harry would have liked.

"Malfoy owled me and said Hermione's dad is missing and Chang is your number one suspect."

"Yeah, but I still don't understand why."

"Hermione said dat wasn't your strong suit." Nick Moretti chuckled lightly while pretending he was incapable of seeing the dangerous glower from the scar headed wizard. "You think Malfoy would mind if we went over there? I mean da guy does have all the notes pegged on that wall. It would make things easier…"

"Actually that's why I'm here. We're gathering some of the team at Malfoy's and since Xander is in bed, we'll actually be able to get some work done. I don't even think they would mind if you brought Daphne, as long as she put on some clothes. Luna and Blaise are there now…" Nick rose from the table without a word and ambled up the steps toward his bedroom. "Well that was bloody rude."

* * *

"You're spending too much time looking for a logical reason." Blaise interrupted the wizards poring over the stacks of parchment covered in Hermione's copious notes.

Draco snorted, adjusting his wife on his knee while his palm continuously moved up and down her back. It soothed the mounting anxiety stemming from the entire situation.

"What else are we supposed to do Zabini?" Harry groaned, throwing his quill across the room. It didn't accomplish much but it made him feel slightly better.

"Listen, I'm not an Auror, and I don't bloody want to be one, but this isn't a logical sort of case. The sooner you realise that the better. If Chang is truly the culprit, then you need to look at it from her viewpoint." Blaise squeezed one of the many stuffed dragons littering the floor, balking when it squeaked.

"He actually has a point. We've sent a team of Aurors to the flat she's kept in Diagon Alley, but it was obvious she hadn't lived there in quite a while. We have an all-points bulletin out and haven't received a single sighting. She's emotionally compromised; we need to speak to the Muggle girl." Hermione tapped her lip with an ink smudged fingertip.

Personally, Draco thought she looked absolutely adorable with the blot of black ink on her lip, her hair in complete disarray and a glow on her cheeks. He was having difficulty concentrating on his task, but he was unwilling to relinquish his hold on her.

"Parkinson…er Longbottom is interrogating her, but we don't expect to learn much." Harry groaned again, earning him a smack in the head from Nick of all people.

"Pansy owled her report, doan you pay attention?" Nick rifled through the small stack of papers beside him and waved one sheet in Harry's face.

"No actually I don't. Every time I close my eyes I see your fucking wife spread on the table where you eat and your face…"

"Potter." Draco pretended to gag.

"Draco Malfoy you best not be picturing her starkers." Hermione jabbed him with her elbow before snatching Pansy's report from Harry's fingers.

"Nee love, why would I waste my time with that when I can picture you whenever I like." Draco nipped her ear and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"She's a cabin in the wood!"

The sounds of chairs crashing, limbs scrambling and raised voices filled the small space until Xander screeched from his bedroom. His little feet stomped across the hardwood until they listened to the erratic thumps while he made his way down the stairs.

"I sowwy. I no cwy." Xander rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his curly hair tangled and sweaty.

"Hey there…little man." Blaise's deep voice startled the youngster and Xander jumped, craning his neck to look up into the unfamiliar tanned face.

"You big! I fwee. I have toys, you play?" Xander grabbed the large wizard's hand and began pulling him along. Blaise didn't have much of a choice in the matter and followed the small boy up the stairs with a wave toward the busy group.

"I suppose we'll just let them be for the moment." Hermione smiled, completely overwhelmed with the wave of emotion washing over her.

"Blaise did have a valid point. We are looking at this all wrong." Draco stared at the list of witches and wizards whom had been attacked thus far. "Potter was the first one to comment on the fact that the Golden Trio has had contact with all these people. If you really study the names together you can see the connections. They were all involved in the TriWizard Championship and Potter won."

"During that abysmal dinner party, Luna had an interesting train of thought. Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory grasped the TriWizard Cup at the same time, which was in fact a Portkey. If Harry hadn't been so magnanimous, Cedric never would have been in that graveyard. Sorry, Harry. It wasn't long after his death, Chang and Harry attempted dating but what if her angst didn't have anything to do with her emotional confliction between Harry and Cedric and instead she honed all her hatred and emotional upheaval toward Harry. Obviously, there's some latent resentment toward Harry. I mean, she seemingly moved on with her life, married a Muggle, had a child and when they died…"

"In order to cope with the loss, she regressed, mentally I mean. She's obviously retained the unequivocal pain of losing her husband and child and yet at the same time, she's placing blame on Harry instead of it being the happenstance of life." Draco interjected, nodding while tapping his quill on the parchment.

"Yes of course. I'm sure she believes if Harry had never aided Cedric, he would still be alive. Perhaps she's even gone so far as to project that future in her mind's eye. If Cedric had lived, she never would have married John nor had Henry. She probably would have been happily married to Cedric and being as he was a wizard, they would have had access to St. Mungos during her pregnancy and she'd probably have more than one child."

"Oh bloody fantastic. It seems as if I'm to blame for every horrid thing to happen in the history of the world because Voldemort. Ridiculous. Sometimes bad things happen; it doesn't make them my fault!" Harry kicked the leg of the dining chair, cringing as it toppled over.

"Harry, I'm not saying it's your fault. I don't blame you for any of it. You had no way of knowing the Cup was a Portkey. Voldemort killed Cedric, Cho should be blaming him, but he's already dead and gone. She wouldn't get any closure from blaming one already dead. Her irrational grief has her grasping at straws; therefore you're the most likely candidate for her to exact her misplaced revenge." Hermione crossed her arms huffing, quite proud of herself.

"Uhm, Hermione? Have you ever noticed…" Harry slammed the list of victims on the table, stabbing each name on the list, "as the list goes on…the closer the victims are to…well to us?" Harry swallowed hard; waiting for the moment Hermione would tell him he was being absolutely ridiculous.

"She has my father…" Draco and Harry were both surprised by the lack of emotion in Hermione's statement. They both hovered, preparing themselves for the moment the emotional ramifications hit her, but the moment never came.

She brushed off their outstretched hands and began pacing, as she was apt to do. Nick ignored the tension in the air, his eyes wandering toward a slumbering Daphne. He was sort of fond of her, in a roundabout sort of way. She hadn't even put up a fuss when he demanded her presence at the Malfoys, which he considered progress.

"Nick, wake up your wife. I want to ask her a question or two. It's important."

"Aww Nee, that's not fair. We finally got a bit of peace and quiet with the bint sleeping." Draco protested despite the dangerous furrow of Nick's brow.

Frankly, Draco didn't give a shit that Nick had married Daphne. He also didn't give a shit that they had finally consummated their marriage. He would always consider Daphne Greengrass an infuriating, conniving witch, obsessed with all things which were not hers.

"Malfoy, if I can't request your wife's cooking on a whim, you can't insult mine." Nick Moretti yanked on the waist of his dark denim jeans and pushed up the long sleeves of his plaid shirt. He wasn't exactly sure how to go about waking Daphne, but he knew he'd have to tread carefully. She did have a bit of a temper.

"Oi! Greengrass! WAKE UP!" Harry shouted, tired of watching Moretti pussyfoot around.

"Well, that was bloody rude. I just got the little dude back to sleep. His hair is green." Blaise shrugged and helped himself to a tumbler of whiskey. "Daphne looks pissed."

"Sorry about that Daphne, Harry's got the manners of a blast-ended skrewt, but I'd like to speak with you for a moment and then I'm sure Nick would be most willing to bring you home. It can't be comfortable sleeping on a sofa." Hermione tried to smile, but it simply wasn't natural to feign kindness toward the Slytherin.

Daphne Greengrass Moretti studied Hermione silently. She managed to refrain from scowling at the witch's grey lounge pants and oversized jumper, which was so obviously Draco's. She still resented the Muggle-born witch for taking the wizard she truly believed would one day be hers. She spared a glance at Draco to see a bloody smile dancing on the corner of his upturned lips while he watched his wife. Daphne sighed, realising no matter how much she desired him, he wasn't capable of seeing anyone beyond Hermione bloody Granger.

"What do you want then?" Daphne sat up, curling her feet beneath the hem of her blush gown. Nick instantly sat beside her, more to make sure she didn't lunge at Hermione in a fit of rage than anything.

"Daphne, if your greatest wish was to cause irrevocable damage to Harry Potter, what would you do?" Hermione decided the best course of action was to get directly to the point. She didn't believe Daphne to have the patience for subtle explanations.

"One incredibly damaging blow or multiple blows that would slowly incapacitate him?"

"Hermione? Why are you asking her that?" Harry scratched his head, shoving a pumpkin pasty into his mouth without preamble.

"I wish to be wrong, that's why. Multiple blows." Daphne closed her eyes and if Hermione wasn't mistaken, the bloody witch was smiling, no doubt reveling in the idea of Gryffindor bodies bludgeoned to death.

"Astoria, Weasley, you, in that order. Always save the best for last. You'd think his wife would be last, but definitely not. Harry Potter is the sort of wizard that leans upon his friends in the absence of family. Therefore the logical thing to do is eradicate his family by disposing of his wife. He'll immediately go to his two very best friends for support. Weasley would be easy enough to dispatch, it's not as if he's particularly bright or anything. What's left then? Oh yes, the renowned Hermione Granger, the brains behind the Golden Trio. Everyone thinks the loss of Weasley would hit Potter the hardest, but that's not true. He and Granger understand each other on a completely different level. They're more than friends, but always less than lovers. It's sickening really, but they're family and losing her? Well, the great Harry Potter would simply be reduced to a shell of a human being, which is torturous enough. After that, it would be quite simple to rid the world of Harry Potter, if that's the desired result of course." Daphne shrugged as if it didn't matter to her in the least, which it didn't.

"Harry…" Hermione breathed, the pounding of her heart roaring in her ears.

"On it." Harry scurried down the steps toward the Travel Room by twos until Hermione could hear him shouting into the Floo.

"Nee, please sit down. I don't relish the idea of scraping you off the floor; you're looking a bit pale." Draco was set to guide her toward the armchair, but Hermione was frozen, though whether from shock or upset was anyone's guess.

"Malfoy, would you see Nick and Daphne to one of the guest rooms. I think it would be better if they stayed here tonight. I'm sure Astoria and James will settle quite nicely in the room beside Xander's and…" Hermione wrung her hands, her breaths rapid as she rattled off sleeping arrangements for their expected guests.

"Nee…"

"That empty room downstairs would convert nicely with a simple flick of your wand and..." Draco grabbed Hermione's shoulders and gave her a bit of a shake. "I wanted to be wrong." She finally whispered resting her weary head on Draco's chest with a small shudder.

"I know, love. I'm sorry, but you're Hermione Malfoy and Malfoys are never wrong." He swayed her gently, holding her close until she could draw a full breath would shivering. "We haven't the room for everyone here, you do realise this?"

"I know, but…"

"Moretti, I'm going to Floo my parents. I want you to bring Daphne there and then head to the Weasleys. Weasley will put up a bit of a fuss, but Millie will listen to reason. Take them to the Manor. I'm going to send owls to the members of Potter's team and have them come here."

"Are you sure dat's the best plan? I mean we're all Aurors and whatnot, dontchu think we're capable of protecting our families ourselves?" Nick threw his arm around Daphne, pretending not to notice the instant stiffening of her back.

"Chang is a Ministry official. She's managed to murder six witches and wizards that we know of so far. She's maimed two people who were not anything less than brilliant. While I do have the utmost respect for the capabilities of Potter's team, there is a certain safety in numbers. Malfoy Manor is a bloody fortress and while I would never dream of bringing my wife there, it is perfectly acceptable to have members of the team kept on sight for the protection of Ronald Weasley."

The moment Nick rose from the sofa, Draco was shoving Hermione into the vacated seat, ignoring her protests. It was obvious she was exhausted and he wasn't of a mind to listen to her attempts of denial.

"Daphne, keep an eye on her for me. I know you're not fond of her and I'm not asking you to be. She's bloody exhausted, completely stressed and pregnant as well. I'm asking you to please look after her for a moment." Daphne nodded curtly, giving Hermione a sidelong glance. A few moments later, Hermione was curled into the side of the sofa fast asleep, not even stirring when an agitated Harry Potter bounded back up the stairs.

The conversations seemed to meld together, creating a beautiful cacophony of nonsense. Daphne ran her fingers through her hair, waiting for Nick to finish whatever it was he was doing and listened to the snippets of conversation with half an ear.

"Draco darling, is everything alright? You look a bit…"

"Astoria and James are gathering a few essentials before…"

"Ron is being his usual stubborn self…"

"Of course you can send them here; it's not as if we haven't the room…"

"My wife is not going to Malfoy Manor I don't…"

"Millie said she'll drag him here by his bloody red ears…"

"Malfoy, I'm taking your wife up to bed." Luna Zabini's clear voice rose above the din and it was obvious from the reactions of the wizards they had forgotten she was about. "I've been upstairs, keeping an eye on Xander. Blaise took it upon himself to carry your messages to Theo and Pansy."

Leave it to Luna to answer unasked questions as if it were nothing more than speaking of the weather.

* * *

It was the wee small hours of the morning before Draco Malfoy was finally able to drag himself off to bed. He had a devil of a time convincing his team it was necessary for them to vacate their homes for a spell. He valiantly tried to think of the medley of witches and wizards as Potter's team, but at the end of the day, they responded better to him. Two sets of Weasley's were scurried off to Malfoy Manor under protest, which was to be expected. George and Ron seemed a bit more at ease knowing they would have each other and adding the Longbottom's to the group had abated much of the tension. Pansy was strangely thrilled to be housed with Daphne, Millie and Padma and even happier to discover they had an entire wing of the Manor to themselves. Draco snorted thinking of his father waking to be surrounded by Gryffindors and it amused him greatly despite the circumstances.

Harry wasn't thrilled with the prospect of remaining at Forest Lake but when it was pointed out the other option was Malfoy Manor, he quickly fell in line. Harry, Astoria and little James were sound asleep in the room beside Xander's. Theo and Hannah were just down the hall. It had been a silent concensus to keep Neville Longbottom and Hannah Abbott Nott as far from each other as possible.

Draco dutifully closed the Floo Network for the Travel Room as well as the Floo in the sitting room before climbing the stairs to his bedroom. He opened the door as quietly as humanly possible and shed his shirt and pants before even sparing a glance at his slumbering wife. Vaguely he wondered when Luna had left, but he supposed it didn't matter. He opened the draperies surrounding the four poster and almost laughed at the sight of his wife. Hermione was sleeping in the middle of the bed with a drooling Xander clutched almost desperately to her chest. He shrugged and climbed in behind her, kissing her cheek before his eyes drooped and he drifted off to sleep.

He awoke entirely too early in the morning from the sounds of a witch's shrieking, Xander crying and Harry Potter shouting. He groaned, wishing more than the ability to roll over and go back to sleep. He was alone in the bed, which added to his foul mood. Draco managed to throw on a pair of lounge pants and a plain white tee shirt before he ambled down the stairs, wishing death upon every person whom had interrupted his sleep.

"There you are! That bitch Apparated right into my fucking house and killed her!" Pansy Longbottom shouted, throwing yet another coffee mug into the wall.

"She's not making a bit of sense. She's destroyed an impressive number of glassware. My suggestion would be to…DUCK!" Harry shoved Draco while he dove beneath the dining table as shards of glass showered down upon them.

"Immobulus." Draco flicked his wand and they bathed in the wondrous delight of silence. "C'mon Potter, that was basic first year magic. I'm not even bloody awake yet. Tell me there's coffee." He brushed the tiny shards of clinging glass from his pants and growled.

"There was, but…" Harry gestured toward the empty cupboard and the dark brown liquid which dripped in a steady stream from the counter to the floor.

"Pans, you're going to calm the fuck down and use your words."

It was a common practice during Hogwarts for Draco to refer to Pansy 'using her words'. It seemed when she was absolutely furious, Pansy simply shouted and threw things. It was impossible to make sense of her shrieks then and even more so now. Pansy blinked and Draco knew that was the most he could expect where a response was concerned. Warily he removed the Freezing Charm and pointed at one of the wooden chairs with his wand.

"Potter, where is my wife?"

"You're not going to deal with Pansy first?" Harry sucked the side of his thumb which was sporting a brilliant cut.

"No. I'm going to allow her a few moments to collect her thoughts. You're going to clean up this bloody kitchen, you've got the experience. Don't look at me like that cupboard boy. Use bloody magic and make some fucking coffee. It's entirely too early for this shit."

"Hermione is vomiting in the lavatory near the foyer. Astoria has Xander and James in the garden, but they're staying near the house. Theo is watching over them and Hannah is crying." Harry decided it was in his best interest to avoid further irritating his host. He immediately began searching for the dustpan and broom before he remembered the wonders of magic.

"Hannah is crying, what else is bloody new there? She cries more than any witch…"

"It's her fucking fault!" Pansy shouted with her fists white in barely maintained rage.

"Potter, coffee, Pansy use your words." Draco flicked his wand and the millions of tiny shards disappeared in a cloud. "There's another set of glassware in the broom cupboard. I haven't the slightest why Nee stashed there, but I'm exceedingly grateful not being forced to have my coffee in a bloody tumbler. I'm going to see to my wife. Pansy, do try to control that temper of yours."

Draco carefully opened the lavatory door to see Hermione kneeling before the toilet with her hair held in a fist.

"Don't look at me." Hermione spat a few times into the bowl before standing to rinse her mouth in the sink. After thoroughly brushing her teeth for what Draco thought was an exceeding amount of time, she glanced at him in the mirror.

"Do you need anything?" She appreciated the soothing circles on her lower back and shook her head.

"Pansy finally stopped shrieking and the horrid stench of Harry's attempt at pancakes is gone as well. I didn't get enough sleep last night and I've been so worried it just all culminated."

"You haven't been sick before have you?"

"No, I thought I'd managed to get through without it. Please deal with Pansy, I haven't the constitution. I'll ask Dink to bring me a spot of breakfast in the garden. Don't look at me like that; he gets downright mental if I don't allow him to do something for me every now and then." Draco stole a sweet kiss and left her in the lavatory.

"Son, please tell me you were not defiling your wife in the facilities."

"Father! Merlin, no. Nee was feeling a bit under the weather and I was tending to her. I suppose you're here for breakfast? I'll ask Dink to whip up a batch of Hermione's waffles. Salazar knows you don't come here for any other bloody purpose." The Malfoy men walked side by side down the corridor and Harry found the sight a bit off-putting.

"Draco, the Manor is filled with Weasleys. I had no other choice than to escape them before their subpar genetics infiltrated our perfect bloodline." Lucius pointedly ignored Harry Potter and sat himself on the breakfast nook bench, awaiting his breakfast.

"Uhm, Lucius you are aware your daughter-in-law is a Muggle-born witch?" Harry couldn't resist bating Lucius. It was always so easy.

"Which tells you exactly how much I detest Weasleys. Dink, I'd like my waffles now."

"He told you, didn't he Potter? Alright Pans, you ready to use your words?" Pansy snarled at the plastic cup Harry had handed her, refusing to allow her to touch another piece of glassware.

"That murdering bitch came to my house. Neville dragged me out of there in such a hurry; I didn't have the bloody chance to tell him Pucey had stuck that bloody Muggle in our spare room." Pansy hissed through her teeth, her fingernails rapidly rapping the wood table.

"Wait, Adrian Pucey stuck Susannah in your house? He was supposed to take her to the Ministry and keep her under guard." Harry unceremoniously dropped a plate of burned pancakes in front of Lucius, not even noticing when they bounced off the plate.

"You are as useless as an armless house elf." Lucius shoved the plate across the table and glared at the The Boy Who Burns Breakfast. Dink hurried across the floor and damned if Lucius didn't smile at him when presented with piping hot waffles and a fresh cup of coffee.

"Pucey said it was entirely too much trouble and Apparated her to my house. I couldn't very well argue with him, you're the idiot that gave him carte blanche. Regardless, Neville said we had to leave immediately and then we were standing outside Malfoy Manor. I didn't have a chance to return there last night so I went first thing this morning. Imagine my surprise when I saw myself bloody hexing the Muggle. She cast the Killing Curse and Disapparated before I could do much of anything. I'm never going to get the blood out of that Oriental rug." Pansy sighed and sipped her tea.

"So you don't even know if it's Chang?" Draco had enough sense to punch Harry Potter in the arm with such force he stumbled.

"Potter, you're being ridiculous. Of course it's Chang. Pansy is an Investigator. Only members of the Ministry can Apparate in and out of other's homes without the wards being adjusted. The rest of our team was either here or at Malfoy Manor. There's no one left unless Kingsley Shacklebolt himself decided he'd like to spend the day as a brunette witch."

"How did she know where Susannah would be?"

"Potter, you're still an incredibly witless wizard. Its obvious Hannah Nott conversed with Ms. Chang as they're friends and I suppose Theo did not speak of your suspicions as far as Ms. Chang is concerned; hence the reason Ms. Nott is bawling her unattractive eyes out in the garden. Do try to keep up." Lucius waved his fork about, daring the syrup to drip onto his robes and rolled his eyes.


	23. The Errors of Relocation

**AN: Alright so...I'm aware this chapter isn't as long as most of the others, but I felt it was a perfect place to end it. I've got the climax perfectly situated in my head...now it's a matter of writing it out...patience my lovelies. Always, thanx for reading *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 23 – The Errors of Relocation

* * *

"There are entirely too many Weasleys in my home." Lucius Malfoy sniffed with the disdain of a pureblood supremacist while poking his cooled eggs with the tines of his fork.

To say he was displeased when he ventured into the formal dining room of Malfoy Manor to enjoy a quiet breakfast and discovered entirely too many red haired wizards was an understatement. Of course, he refused to cause a blight upon his family name and superior breeding by hexing the bastards, but he was quite inclined to close his eyes and count the many ways he would thoroughly enjoy dismembering the raucous wizards. The corner of his lip lifted in a half snarl upon spying the younger Weasley shoving bits of pancake into his gaping mouth, allowing the syrup to drip from his lips to his ridiculous red plaid shirt.

"Disgusting. Your mother must be simply appalled by your lack of grace."

"Lucius, contain yourself. It isn't as if you have not been reprimanded by your lack of manners when presented with Hermione's fish and chips." Narcissa allowed a small smile to grace her features before taking a small sip of her tea.

Her husband wasn't wrong, the young Weasley did have appalling manners, but it wasn't proper to comment upon such things in mixed company.

"I'm afraid you'd have a better chance of the wind dancing the waltz than getting Ron there to eat with a modicum of respect. Mother's tried for years and look how well that turned out." George shrugged, used to his brothers antics, while helping himself to another serving of fried eggs and bacon.

Neville almost wished he had accompanied his wife to Forest Lake, until he remembered how incensed she had been. While he wasn't exactly comfortable rubbing elbows with Lucius Malfoy, anything was better than Pansy's temper. His fingers shook, causing his china cup to rattle. Lucius dropped his fork onto his plate and stood quickly.

"I shan't abide it a moment longer." Without another word or even a glance in his wife's direction, he strode from the dining room directly towards the Floo.

"We didn't drive him away, did we?" Ron snickered slurping his pumpkin juice loudly.

"Mr. Weasley, you give yourself entirely too much credit. Lucius is simply accustomed to the silence while he breaks the fast. While he believes I am none the wiser, I know he often slips off to visit Hermione. He does adore her waffles." Narcissa nodded at her eclectic group of visitors and wandered into her garden. At least there she wouldn't be subjected to Ron Weasley's eating habits.

"Seems as though you've cleared the room Ron." George chuckled, shoving the last bit of toast into his mouth. He decided it was time to rouse his wife from slumber and sought to ply her with breakfast.

"What? I'm hungry!"

* * *

Ron Weasley seemed to be the only person enjoying his surroundings. It wasn't that he adored Malfoy Manor or anything, quite the contrary. Fact of the matter was, he was quite enamored with their house elves. Whatever he could think of eating, they brought him. It was akin to heaven. His wife had long since stopped trying to convince him there were better ways to spend his time when she watched his eyes roll back in head upon tasting a decadent chocolate creation.

"Nick and Daphne are at it again." Millie grumbled, thumbing through one of Narcissa's romance novels.

"For a witch who claims to absolutely detest her husband, she sure shags him quite a lot." Padma glanced down at her rounded belly with a practiced eye.

"Ron hasn't touched me since I told him I'd quite like to have a child. He claims he's not ready and we're too young."

"I bet George could knock a bit of sense into him. He's completely obsessed with the twins." Millie tried her damnedest not to stare at Padma with the jealousy she felt, but she knew she couldn't manage it long.

"I'm going to bother Daphne and Nick, perhaps they'll let me watch or something."

Millicent Weasley slowly wandered the twisting corridors of Malfoy Manor with a heavy heart. The thought of marriage had never occurred to her really. She was always a large girl with wide shoulders and even her mother said her face left something to be desired. She knew Ron Weasley wasn't the brightest bloke or the best looking man either, but with a bit of training he had sussed out alright. Sure, they didn't have the blatantly obvious, ridiculously affectionate relationship Draco and Hermione had, but that was alright. They didn't have the shag until we're dead relationship Nick and Daphne apparently had either. They didn't have the easy camaraderie that Padma and George had and now that Millie was actually thinking about it, she wondered what sort of relationship she and Ron did have.

They weren't exactly friends, as they hadn't much in common. They definitely weren't lovers, considering Ron had barely managed to consummate their marriage. She supposed the only thing it could be called was reluctant acceptance, which didn't make her feel a bit better about anything.

She paused in front of an ornate mirror and stared at her reflection with a critical eye. She went through her mental checklist, hating herself just a little bit more.

'Brows too thick. Shoulders too wide. Hair too lackluster. Chin too square. Eyes too small.' Her shoulders slumped, yet no matter how hard she tried, Millie would never be able to make herself smaller.

She ambled toward the picture window beckoning her and pushed aside the heavy draperies. The Malfoy estate really was quite lovely. It was nicer than the home she grew up in, but that wasn't saying much. The Malfoy estate was nicer than anywhere she'd ever seen. The rolling hills of green grass appealed to her the most. She had half a mind to wander out into the garden and sit beneath one of the many large trees near the pond when she spied Ron.

Ron was kicking up tufts of grass near the furthest edge of the Malfoy estate grumbling to himself. He knew he should have listened to George, Neville or even Millie, but he hadn't. Now his stomach was in absolute turmoil and it didn't help matters any that he was stuck there instead of his new house.

He didn't understand why Millie had insisted they purchase their own home. He had always believed the Burrow was a perfectly acceptable place to raise a family. It had worked well enough for his parents and with everyone having left home, Ron figured they could use a bit of company. He missed his mum. He missed the way she laundered his clothes and the way she lavished attention on him. He missed her monstrous fry ups for breakfast the most. He missed pint after pint of rich frothy ale as well, but he didn't dwell upon those thoughts.

It had taken him more than the average amount of time to come to the revelation that life was a bit clearer without his trusty ale. It also had a tendency to hurt a bit more as well. Ron was remiss to admit it but he still despised seeing Hermione and Malfoy together. He knew he wasn't up to par as far as Hermione was concerned, but it was and always would be Malfoy that grated on his nerves the most.

He was pretty sure he didn't love her that way, not anymore. He often wondered if he ever had. He had an awful tendency to dwell upon the past which only brought his own failings hurtling toward the surface. While he kicked a particularly tall tuft of grass he wondered why the bloody Aurors had refused to tell him anything about their hasty relocation.

It was absolutely ridiculous. Ron kicked a little harder than he intended and lost his footing. He hollered while he was propelled down the rolling incline and finally slid through the damp grass.

"Fuck it, I'll just lay here then. I bloody well give up." Ron Weasley stared into the cornflower blue sky and wondered why his best mate hadn't told him a bloody thing.

"Very important Auror business, Ron. By order of the Minister for Magic, Ron. Why can't you just do what you're told, Ron?" He rifled through his pockets and groaned. "Figures I'd lose my wand on the tumble down, bloody delightful."

"It's alright Ron; it works out really well for me." Cho Chang smiled widely before spinning on the toes of her white trainers, ignoring the stains of grass decorating the edges.

She loved the way her plaid skirt swirled around her. She loved the confusion decorating the freckled Weasley even more. It was a beautiful day to end lives. It had been ridiculously easy to lure that stupid Muggle away from the flat. He was more than willing to follow her to the ends of the earth. Cho supposed his wife must have been a frigid sort, but it didn't matter to her in the least.

It had been nothing short of delightful when she Apparated right into the middle of Pansy's living room and killed that Muggle. Cho couldn't be sure how much Susannah had managed to tell the Ministry officials, but she couldn't risk her cabin being found. It was her little piece of heaven. Sure, she had committed numerous murders there, but that didn't change the fact it was the one place that was filled with John.

Apparently the Ministry was closing in and it didn't bother her as much as it probably should. Cho Chang was simply of a mind that she had to speed up her timeline. Quite frankly, she had wanted to wait at least a year before venturing forward. She had planned to revisit Fleur and do away with her, but she hadn't the chance.

"What…what are you doing here? You can't be here. My wife is just up at the house…do you have any idea…" Cho tuned out the rest of Ron's words. She had the information she needed.

It seemed Harry Potter hadn't bothered to inform his very best mate that a psychopath was actively pursuing him. How very quaint. He probably had thought it was best to keep things from Ron. Or perhaps their relationship was irrevocably fractured by a simple night of degrading shagging during the Quidditch Training Camp.

"Do you really wish to be here?" Cho battered her long lashes with a soft half smile.

"It's not that bad alright? The house elves bring me whatever I want and we've got an entire wing…"

"Shut up Ron. That doesn't answer the question." Cho stepped toward him, placing her small delicate palm on his chest. Her thumb stroked the buttons on his ugly plaid shirt and from the look in his eye; Cho knew it was only a matter of moments before he succumbed to her charms.

"I can't go with you. I'm married now. It wouldn't be right. She's a nice girl and I won't hurt her like that." Ron retreated from Cho's intimate touch.

There was something about her that he found unsettling. Her eyes never stopped moving, which made him wary. Ron wished he hadn't dropped his wand, but there wasn't much he could do about that now. He tried to keep her attention while he scoured the ground, but she was faster than he anticipated.

"Uh uh uh, that's a naughty boy. You're not trying to evade me now are you? That's not very gentlemanly now is it? Come along then, we've tarried long enough. I suppose Wendell could do with a bit of company." Cho jabbed her wand into his throat, her dark eyes sparkling.

She waved toward Malfoy Manor. It was blatantly obvious the hulking figure in the upstairs window was a jilted Millicent Bulstrode. Cho wrinkled Ron's shirt in her tiny fists and Disapparated.

* * *

"Do you think they're alright?" Hermione sighed into her husband's neck.

She was a bit irritated with herself as it seemed she'd been spending more time in Draco's lap, accepting his soothing comfort than anything else. She felt as if it were her job to be bustling about, referring to texts and scolding Harry. It was a difficult pill for her to swallow when she realised that was no longer her job. Her job was to be a mum to her newly discovered brother and the tot growing inside her. She was terrified actually. She didn't know how to be a good mum anymore than Draco knew how to be a good dad.

"Nee, you're worrying again." Draco rubbed her back in slow circles and kissed her temple.

He was not about to complain about the numerous stolen moments he spent wrapped around his wife. He had come to revel in the moments. They weren't spent bickering over their houseguests or chasing Xander or even dealing with Lucius Malfoy's voracious appetite. Most times they sat in a silence born of a need for peace.

"I can't help it, now can I?" Hermione lightly slapped his chest and he feigned pain just the way she knew he would.

"I'm sure they're fine. Malfoy Manor is a bloody fortress. Do you know how difficult it was to adjust the wards for all those Weasleys? I swear my father created the nastiest hexes simply to protect the Manor from Weasleys. He's ridiculous. As long as they remain within the wards, they'll be just fine. I can't imagine the Weasel wandering about once he discovers the house elves abilities. Oh don't even start Granger. You know as well as I how much they love to work. I'm sure they're thrilled to be bringing the Weasel platters of…something revolting." Draco shuddered, wishing the images of Ron Weasley shoveling egg soaked toast into his gaping mouth.

"I know, I know and I do have to admit I'm quite grateful I don't have to watch him eat. I don't think my stomach could take it." Hermione's stomach lurched at the thought.

"Please don't vomit on me. I couldn't bear it. I barely managed to get the last bits of syrup out of my hair after Xander force fed me." He couldn't help but lovingly pat her distressed stomach.

"I'm starving and exhausted. I didn't bloody know that was possible." Hermione groaned and rolled onto her side.

She was incapable of ceasing the analytical carousel of her intellectual mind. Hermione chewed her bottom lip, trying to quell the endless scenarios of mayhem which were torturing her. She couldn't help but worry. Ron wasn't known for his ability to follow instructions. She knew he often zoned out during the important moments. It was easy to believe he had been paying attention when he had been informed of the importance of his relocation.

"Draco!" Hermione shot up from the bed, lurching at the onset of dizziness.

Draco groaned, smothering his face with her pillow. While he was quite used to her antics, he only wished for a few moments of absolute silence. He should have known better than to even think such a thing. Merlin knows he loved Hermione but that woman would worry about the colour of the wallpaper in the sunlight.

"Yes love?" He sighed, blindly reaching for her.

"Tell me Harry informed Ron of the exact reason for relocation." Draco tossed the pillow to the floor and rolled to his side.

He could see she was having difficulty focusing. It was par for the course really. No matter how much Hermione tried to distance herself from Ron Weasley, he would always hold a very special place in her heart. Draco detested it, with every fiber of his being. He knew there was nothing he could do about it, but he hated to share her. He wanted every piece of her heart and he couldn't have it. He knew he was being completely unreasonable, yet it didn't stop the longing. Draco was aware everything was different now. They were instantly parents of a small child who had been robbed of the love and affection he deserved and they had another child on the way. It was absolute insanity to wish for every ounce of her love, yet he still craved it. Even if it could only be his for a little while.

"Actually, Potter decided it would be best if they didn't know. He's a bit worried about the Hannah fiasco repeating itself."

"Idiot. Harry Potter is a bloody idiot. If he had been honest with his team about his suspicions in the first place, the Hannah fiasco would never have happened! He's so infuriating. You know he's constantly second guessing himself. You should remember, you were his bloody partner for years. I don't know how you put up with him. I mean, I'm thrilled you're not rushing about any longer, but honestly. I don't know you managed to get anything done."

"Nee, I agree with you love. He should have told them. We could have avoided this entire mess if Potter had simply trusted himself or been willing to listen to reason. What would you like me to do about it love?" He couldn't resist those upturned lips, even when her eyes were flashing with anger.

"I want you to stop looking at me as if you wish to ravish me. I want you to find that crazy bint and lock her away for eternity. I want you be angry, as angry as I am. I want you to take back your bloody team and do what needs to be done because it's obvious Harry bloody Potter isn't capable." Hermione collapsed in his arms, just as he knew she would.

Draco resisted the urge to nuzzle her neck, to work his fingers into her clinging blouse. Of course she was making things more difficult for him by continuously stroking him from his neck to his chest. How she was unaware of the effect she had on him was beyond him. He smothered the groan and it turned into some sort of medieval growl instead. He settled for a kiss on her neck and contemplated her words.

"You want me to return to the Ministry? I quit being an Auror because my pregnant wife got blown up. Now my pregnant wife wishes me to return to all the Auroring and we've a new son as well? Is she barmy?"

"Auroring isn't even a word. No, I'm not barmy. I'm being practical. Harry hasn't managed to trust his instincts since Voldemort's fall. I think he honestly believes all the things we did and the magic we used was somehow related to his connection to Voldemort. He's slow with his wand draw and he's become a follower. He's really lost without you, Malfoy. If we have any hope of putting this all to rest, you've got to help him."

"I'll do it…for you. HOWEVER!" Draco was forced to shout over Hermione's exuberance. "I have conditions. You've got to go to the Manor, along with Xander. I'd feel better knowing you were completely protected and there's no place safer than Malfoy Manor. I know you detest it and I understand it, but these are extenuating circumstances. The wards at the Manor are centuries old and it would be impossible for me to replicate them for Forest Lake. If you want me to approach the Minister and beg for my bloody job back, you'll do this for me." Hermione struggled and Draco had a sneaking suspicion she wished to beat him bloody, but he held her tight.

It was easy to fall back onto the mattress with Hermione clasped tightly to his chest. She flailed a bit, mostly because she was so ridiculously angry. Sure, she wanted him to beg the Minister for his job back but she had absolutely no intention of leaving her home and going to Malfoy Manor, not matter how much he begged her. It was a ridiculous notion and she could barely entertain the thought before she was seething with rage.

"I can't do that. I can't believe you would ask me to do that. You know what happened to me there and…"

"Nee, I know, believe me I know, I was fucking there. It doesn't change the fact that it's the safest place for you and Xander to be. Fuck, I'll make Potter send Astoria and James there as well. You can't imagine anything untoward would happen to you while surrounded by all your Gryffindor mates. Besides, if something were to happen to you, my father would throw a ridiculous fit. Did you know he berates the elves inability to properly reproduce your waffles? Don't even get me started on those chocolate biscuits."

Hermione detested it when he used logic against her. She couldn't refute his words no matter how hard she tried and it was driving her mad. She hated feeling left behind. Hermione knew if she was just given a chance, she could suss out Cho Chang's whereabouts and with a team of Aurors the witch could be brought to justice. Harry and Draco had believed her to be mad for even suggesting such a thing.

She wasn't wrong. They knew she wasn't wrong just as much as she knew and they had refused to yield. More like, Draco had refused to yield and Harry had nodded like some sort of ponce.

"I don't want to go."

"I know love, but strange as it is to say this, my father would love to have you."

"Promise me I don't have to set foot in that room." Draco resisted the urge to smirk in triumph, instead nodding solemnly.

"That room doesn't even exist anymore. Mother had it sealed off, I thought I told you." Draco being the insatiable rascal he'd always been, slowly removed his wife from his chest in order to inspect her delectable body. "I can't resist you."

"Now really isn't the time for that, Malfoy." Hermione's breathy whisper filled his senses and while he knew she wouldn't allow him tear her clothes off and have his way, he couldn't resist lightly pressing his lips to hers.

Draco groaned at the light tapping on their bedroom door. He knew he hadn't a chance in hell, but the idea of cajoling his wife into a session of delicious lovemaking was positively torture. He knew exactly who was tapping away at the door. It didn't make him anymore willing to answer it, no matter how many times his wife happened to poke his ribs.

"Go away Potter. I know that poncey knock is yours."

"Poncey isn't a word Malfoy! Let me in!" Harry Potter shouted from the corridor, quite put out.

"The bloody door isn't locked you bastard."

Harry twisted the handle, surprised when it opened so easily. He strode into the room, nervously clearing his throat. He always hated feeling as if he were reporting to Malfoy. He'd felt that way from the moment Shacklebolt declared Draco Malfoy to be his partner and he didn't understand why. Well, that wasn't really true. He understood perfectly, he just didn't wish to admit it.

He knew he hadn't been up to par. When he was a child he had fought without fear because he hadn't anything more to lose. Things were different now. The idea of losing Astoria made his vision blur and his heart thump to the beat of a thousand drums. The idea of losing James made his head pound so hard, he found it difficult to breathe. Harry swallowed hard, willing the wave of dizziness to dissipate while he leaned heavily on the bureau, knocking the various glass bottles to the floor.

"I've got to head over to Malfoy Manor. I could hardly make a bit of sense between your mother shouting and Millie bawling. I'm assuming it has something to do with Ron…I don't know…"

"Oh sod off Potter. When are you going to stop whining? What the bloody hell is wrong with you? It's enough already don't you think? Why don't you be a good little Gryffindor and contact the Minister. I think it would be best if you handled my petition for reinstatement. I'm going to have a chat with Astoria and arrange to have our wives and children sent to Malfoy Manor. If we've got half a prayer of catching Chang we've got to go full out."

Hermione huffed with the slightest trace of indignation, but she decided it would be in her best interest to remain silent. It seemed Harry was having a bit of trouble processing the newfound information as well as coming to terms with his own fear and shortcomings. She could read him better than anyone and while his brilliant green eyes stared at the seam on the wall, Hermione couldn't help but hug her oldest friend.

"Listen to him Harry. Let him take the lead, bring Cho down and maybe you should rethink the idea of being an Auror. You know I love you Harry, you're the brother I never had, but your heart isn't in it. I don't think you have the constitution for it. It's not your fault. It's easier to fight when you have nothing to lose. You can afford to be reckless in order to do your job, but you've got Astoria and little James. I expect you'll want more children eventually and I can't see Astoria putting up with you putting your life on the line on a daily basis. I've heard there are a few teaching positions available at Hogwarts. You could be happy there I think." She could feel Harry sagging in relief against her and no further words needed to be spoken.

He had always appreciated that about her. She understood him in a way no one else could. They weren't cut from the same cloth, but there was something about being parentless children which had fused them together. Harry had spent most of his childhood leaning upon her, relying upon her and he knew now it wasn't fair to her. He wondered where the courageous boy he once was had run off to, he could really use him now.

"Potter, listen. I'm not judging you but at the same time, I think Hermione's right. Not everyone is cut out to be an Auror. From the stories you've regaled me with over the years, you've done plenty for the Ministry. There's nothing wrong with deciding to shape young minds. Could you imagine the disdain upon Snape's portrait if you were the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor?" Draco chuckled attempting to lighten the decidedly morose mood.

His fingers were twitching with excitement. Draco adored being an Auror, even when he was landed with Harry Potter as his partner. He finally felt as if he were making a positive contribution to society. Never mind the fact it was completely exhilarating to prepare for the chase. He missed it desperately, but after watching his wife almost be blown to bits, he knew it wasn't the right career choice for him any longer.

"What the bloody hell are you wankers doing? I just got finished calming Millie and apparently Ron's missing. Narcissa managed to keep the lot of them inside, but she discovered his wand near the edge of the wards. She thinks he's been snatched." Astoria Potter was apparently channeling her inner Molly Weasley as she stood in the doorway, legs akimbo, hands on her hips and her face with a righteous sort of indignation.

Hermione believed they would be beat about the head with a spoon if Astoria had one.

"Draco wants us to gather the children and Floo over to Malfoy Manor. It seems they're setting to go after Cho and wish us all in one place together. I don't wish to go there anymore than you, but under the circumstances I believe it would be best to set our husbands' minds at ease." Hermione hurried through her explanation as it looked as though Astoria wished to argue the point until finally she nodded.

"Xander is in the nursery watching James sleep. I keep a bag packed for emergencies though I should run home for a minute. James does have a tendency to go through nappies faster than I can keep up." Before any of them could object, Astoria was rushing down the stairs in a whirlwind of most unbecoming green plaid.

"Harry, Draco, go to the Ministry and speak with Shacklebolt. I'm sure he'll assign a few Aurors to the case and perhaps a few of the Junior Aurors can be stationed near the perimeter of the Manor. It would make them feel more involved than they are and hopefully it will help to appease both your worry. I'm going to pack a bag for Xander and myself. I'm assuming it's unnecessary for me to pack one for you as well, Malfoy. It is your childhood home after all and well…"

"Nee, stop planning. I don't wish you to get yourself into a tizzy. It isn't good for you or the baby for that matter. Don't look at me like that. I'm allowed to smother you, hover and worry for you. I couldn't bear a repeat of last time, Granger."

"I still can't get over the fact you're completely in love with my best friend. I never would have imagined it. Not only that, but you've knocked her up as well. This hurts my head quite frankly and…"

"Potter, we've completely even. You shagged, married and impregnated my best mate. You're no longer allowed to judge me. At least my wife is smarter than yours. Speaking of yours, how long does it bloody take to snag a few nappies?" Harry sprinted from the bedroom, clambering down the stairs and if Draco wasn't mistaken the wanker tripped down a few of them.

Hermione was spinning around their bedroom, throwing what looked to be random articles of clothing into a brown suede messenger bag. She hurried to Xander's room and it was more of the same. The adrenaline was coursing through her, adding to her excitement. She was worried for Harry and Draco, but she knew when the moment came, they would work well together and get the job done.

Draco followed her with his eyes, a half smile on his lips. As a child he had always been told his parents had loved him, but he had never truly felt loved until Hermione. He wasn't exactly sure when it had happened. Perhaps it had occurred during the years of watching her slave away in the Archives. Perhaps it had even been their first date. Sometimes, when he was lying in bed, listening to her soft breaths, he thought about the day she was hurtled through that door.

He remembered feeling as though his heart had been shredded in his chest. He had spent many a night gasping himself awake in a pool of sweat. He didn't cower from the fear like Harry Potter did. He embraced it, choosing to use it to aid in his strength and determination. He would gladly die for his family if it came down to it and he wasn't afraid to admit it. He had a horrible sinking feeling when he heard Harry bellowing downstairs.

Theo and Hannah stumbled from the guest room with bleary eyes and it didn't take a genius to figure out how they spent their day. At least Hannah had finally stopped crying. Draco swore if she hadn't stopped by the morning he was going to Avada her despite Hermione's objections.

"What the bloody hell is Potter shouting about?"

"Theo, I haven't the time to explain. Go and pack a bag for you and Hannah. We're transferring the lot of you to Malfoy Manor. I'll deal with Potter." Draco shoved his friend out of his path on his way downstairs.

The sinking feeling quickly turned into a puddle of anxiety and fear. Harry Potter was on his knees, desperately clutching his wild hair in shaking fists. Draco approached him slowly, not wishing to startle him, but it was obvious the poor wizard was distressed.

"Pott…er Harry, are you alright? What happened then?" Draco lightly touched Harry's shoulder, expecting the wizard to recoil from him or even cry.

Instead, Harry lifted his head with a snarl, his green eyes flashing with a brilliant hatred that even Draco managed to find impressive. Harry pushed off the floor, managing to stand on shaky limbs.

"I was too late. I was too caught up in my own head to even listen to my wife. She only went home to grab some nappies, it should have been easy enough but Chang was waiting for her. I could hear her screaming for me Malfoy and I couldn't get to her in time and they were gone. I put a trace on her magical signature, that's something I suppose. I tell you this Malfoy, I'm going to find her…and I'm going to kill her."


	24. Collections Complete?

**Disclaimer: As I do not own Harry Potter...I also do not own The Little Mermaid...she belongs to whoever owns her. **

**AN: I swear if someone feels the need to note me and point out it's Disney...I'll kill Draco Malfoy in this fic.  
All first person is our friendly neighbourhood psychotic.  
I probably should have edited a bit more, but I didn't.  
*kisses***

* * *

Chapter 24 – Collections Complete?

* * *

I'm quite aware my sanity is in question. I'm questioning it myself frankly. There's no need to hide, not anymore. I can't believe I was almost caught. That really would have put a wrench in my plans.

It was difficult enough trying to suss out where Potter had hid them. He has quite the reputation for keeping things close to his chest. I understand it, I probably would too if I were in his position. I suppose it's difficult for others to understand why I've centered my delicious revenge around Harry Potter, but it's perfectly logical to me.

I should have just stolen a Time Turner, but do you have any idea how difficult it is to get one of those? They're housed in the Department of Mysteries. I remember listening to Hermione drone on and on about it when Harry and Ron were outraged that she hadn't kept it. I often wonder if I would have descended upon a completely different path if I had managed to steal a Time Turner.

Would Voldemort still be dead and gone? Would Cedric, my dear sweet beautiful Cedric still be alive? Would we be living in a lovely cottage somewhere with our children? It's calming to picture what would have been, what could have been. It's not that thoughts of Cedric replace my life with John. They don't. Nothing could replace John and Henry in my heart, but it hurts to think of them. It hurts so bloody much I can barely stand it. Thinking of Cedric is safe. He's been dead and gone for years and I suppose we all need a bit of imagination in our lives and that's what he is for me.

I couldn't help but laugh. I didn't recognise the sound but it continued until I was bloody crying. It was strange to feel the tears dripping from my eyes while my chest is heaving. I suppose my laughter terrified my guests. They started shouting and banging on the walls, but it didn't bother me. I was used to their antics.

Wendell is really quite a wonderful guest. He doesn't spit at me or even judge me overly much. It felt as if he could look into my soul. I didn't mind speaking with him. In fact, he was my favourite guest. It would be terribly sad when I killed him. I do think it would be lovely to have a spot of tea with him before I got to work. I wouldn't want him to feel neglected.

"Wendell darling." I hated to see him shivering with the cold. He lifted his curly mop of dark hair to look upon me and I was pleased to see no malice in his light eyes.

I was forced to magically expand the cabin. It was much easier to create the necessary cells for my guests with more space. Wendell was quite informative when it came to the construction. If it weren't for him, they'd all be down in the cellar and I can't imagine them lasting long there.

"Are we to have our final tea then?" The resignation in his eyes was enough to break anyone's heart, but not mine. I didn't have time for such distractions.

"I have a bit of time before I have to be off and I wish to spend it with you. It's got to be better than listening to Ron Weasley bellow." I held out my hand and led him from the cell.

His cell really was much nicer than the one I had allocated for Ron. The look upon Ron's face when I snatched him from the Manor was bloody priceless. He hadn't expected it, not really. I suppose that's what happens when your best mate is an Auror and hasn't seen fit to inform you of the threat on your life.

I can't even begin to tell you what a devil of a time I had tracking them down. It goes to reason I assumed they would employ the protection of the Ministry, but I was wrong. Hannah hadn't been much use. It wasn't her fault. She had only informed me of Susannah's location on accident. It was obvious she hadn't known anything more, which really was a shame, but I didn't have it in me to cut her down. She was miserable enough, but I think it was more guilt than anything. She had loved Neville; at least I think she did. If I had to guess, Hannah was quite enjoying her new marriage to the quiet but intelligent Theo Nott and it chaffed her. Stupid Hufflepuffs and their conflicting emotions, absolutely ridiculous if you ask me.

It was really those thoughts that led me to Malfoy Manor. Harry was never as secretive as he thought he was. It was always hilarious to observe the furtive glances which completely belied his intentions. If Hannah was still distraught over her marriage to Theo, then it was safe to assume the brilliant minds of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy would keep the couples separated. The only logical choice after ensconcing their wives at Forest Lake would to be to send the others to Malfoy Manor.

I detested the fact they figured out my plan. I mean, I didn't imagine it would remain a secret forever, but I really thought I had more time. I suppose it's difficult to admit I wasn't as sly as I thought I was.

"Why are you doing this Cho?" Wendell had slipped into the clothes I laid out for him and I was startled for a moment.

In his calm demeanor, for a split second, he reminded me of John. Those moments had truly become the bane of my existence. I remember speaking with Molly months after the accident and she told me I would get passed it and to give myself time to heal. I tried that avenue.

It was my dreams that haunted me the most. I couldn't hide from the memories in my sleep but the moment I considered exacting revenge…they stopped. I felt as if it were a sign that I was on the right path. Surely, if it was wrong to rid the world of Harry Potter, I wouldn't be able to sleep like a baby at night.

"I've told you Wendell, I don't know why you keep expecting the answer to change."

"I don't know why you think my death will impact your intended victim in the least. It wasn't as if I was a particularly good father now was I? Sure, I had a certain camaraderie with Harry Potter, but honestly? In comparison to your grand scheme of things, I'm nothing." Wendell sat at the ragged wood table, determined to ignore the rust coloured stains in the grooves.

He wasn't wrong, but I wasn't going to vary my plan for anyone. It didn't matter how much I liked him. He was really just a contingency plan. I had managed to snatch Ron Weasley, which was really more than I could have hoped for. If I managed to snatch Astoria and Hermione, then perhaps I'd let Wendell go. I wasn't about to start making him any promises, but I wasn't completely adverse to the idea.

"Why didn't you love her?" I couldn't help but ask.

Wendell poured cups of tea and even sliced the warm bread, as if this was something we had done every day. It was comforting and I was becoming attached. It was dangerous to become attached but I couldn't help it.

"My wife wished for children and once we finally had a child, she decided she had been wrong. It was too late by that time. I was thankful she was magical. It's selfish to admit, but we weren't forced to see her day in and day out. She was away for most of the year and it was almost as if we didn't have a child. We encouraged her to stay with her friends. We always saw to her needs but we weren't good parents. I don't think we were cut out for it. She blames me, my wife does. She claims it was all my idea and I let her. Hell, I even tell the story for her. Monica, er Helen has a bit of mental illness due to some childhood trauma. Quite honestly, I'd rather focus on her than our children. It's the reason I gave Troy to Draco Malfoy. They'll be wonderful parents. He'll be a lovely addition to their growing family…" I couldn't hear anything else he was saying.

He really was a right bastard. He had exactly what I craved and he tossed his children aside in favour of a selfish, demented woman? Well, that settled that, Wendell Wilkins had officially signed his own death warrant.

Harry Potter's house wasn't as impressive as I thought it would be. It was lovely, but frankly I had expected more. He had married Astoria Greengrass and Merlin knows that witch was accustomed to the finer things in life. They didn't even have any bloody house elves. I couldn't help but wonder how the prissy little Slytherin managed.

I wandered through the rooms, one after another displacing their belongings for amusement when I stumbled upon the nursery. I hadn't intended to wander through their home; it was only a stopover really. I couldn't believe they hadn't adjusted the wards. I suppose in the flurry of commotion they had forgotten. I almost wished they hadn't. Perhaps then I'd be lying in wait near Forest Lake instead of standing in the midst of James Potter's fucking nursery.

My throat closed when I saw the wooden letters on the wall spelling out the child's name. John and I had done the same for Henry. I supposed it was some sort of Muggle tradition. The room was done beautifully and even I had to begrudgingly admit the Potter's had some taste. It was the mobile that did me in.

A beautiful array of Quidditch players in a perfect circle of bright and wondrous colours, danced over the dark wooded crib and my heart clenched. It had taken me a bit, but I had managed to convince John to allow me to hang the same bloody mobile for Henry.

He had balked at the idea initially but we compromised. He insisted upon the wooden letters, which he had hand painted no less and in exchange John agreed to the mobile. Henry had loved to watch it spin round and round while the players waving at him. I closed my eyes, ignoring the sudden wetness and I could swear I could hear his laughter.

With a snarl of rage, even as the tears ran tracks down my cheeks I whipped out my wand and set about destruction. I slashed the wooden letters from the wall, blasted the small chest of drawers and scorched every photograph from the wall. I felt a bit better, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

I don't know how long I shouted and smashed things, but I felt a bit better when I was forced to stop. Not only had I run out of things to destroy, my chest was heaving and I was completely soaked with sweat.

"What have you done?" The small voice interrupted the pounding in my head.

I couldn't believe it. This was absolutely perfect. Stupid Harry Potter had allowed his tiny slip of a wife to venture out alone. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

I wanted to quickly immobilize her but she started all that ridiculously shrill shouting. Astoria Potter ran down the corridor faster than I had anticipated, but I caught up with her. The silly witch hadn't enough sense to draw her wand if you can believe it. She was nearly to the Floo when I grabbed the long blonde hair flowing out behind her. I yanked her back hard, and she almost knocked me right off my feet when she slammed into me, but I managed to keep my footing.

I slapped her, just once yet hard and she stilled. She didn't have much fight in her for a Slytherin, but then I saw the reason why. What need did Astoria have for fighting when Harry Potter was coming to her rescue? Of course I saw those scheming green eyes and that ridiculous black hair peeking through the Floo. I wasn't ready for my confrontation with him, not yet.

I supposed it would have been terribly easy to end it all right then as he was completely unprepared for seeing me, but that's not what I wanted. I didn't want to make it easy for him. What pain is there in death? No, he must live, if only for a little while longer. After all, I haven't completed my collection yet.

I waited, just a moment for those green eyes to stare into mine while I held his wife in an iron grip. Astoria was crying, silently pleading for Harry to save her. I dug my wand into her throat and she shouted out.

"Harry!" There it was, the palpable pain in his eyes. It soothed my aching heart in a way I could never adequately explain.

I stared into the depths of his heartless soul and smiled. I gave him a small wave and Apparated away, with his screaming wife in tow. I couldn't have asked for anything more.

* * *

Draco Malfoy had a devil of a time dragging his unwilling entourage to Malfoy Manor. He was surprised he had managed it. Harry Potter had needed to be restrained, which was a fantastic feat in and of itself. It had taken Lucius Malfoy to finally bind the wizard, which only further fueled Harry's anger.

"Your father's a bastard; I know exactly where you get it!" Harry struggled against his magical bonds and Draco wished the wizard had been Silenced as well, but he wasn't about to suggest it.

"Potter, I'm going to ignore your outburst. Theo and Pansy are investigating the area where Weasley's wand was discovered. They suspect Chang snatched him as there's a lingering magical signature just beyond the wards." Draco continuously raked his hair which only made Harry wish he could rip it from the man's head.

"I hate you, I hate your father, I hate this bloody house." Harry seethed, unable to concentrate on much of anything.

"As delightful as it to listen to your riveting inventory of hatred, we've got bigger things to worry about. Perhaps if you could manage to rein in that nasty temper of yours we'd be able to implement the Trace. Don't you think it would be lovely to discover Chang's nifty little hideaway before she murders everyone we love?"

"What do you know about it Malfoy? You're wife and child are just upstairs. They're not Merlin knows where with a psychopath!" Harry wiggled the arms of the chair, desperate to be free.

It didn't matter if Draco Malfoy had a valid point; logic was currently lost on him. He couldn't imagine his life without Astoria. He wanted nothing more than to hunt Cho Chang to the ends of the earth and watch her writhe in agony. He remembered casting an Unforgivable upon Bellatrix Lestrange and she taught him a very valuable lesson. You've got to mean it. Well, that certainly wouldn't be a fucking problem.

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself and running through various scenarios where you've cornered Chang and hexed her into oblivion, she's a bloody intelligent witch. We haven't given her nearly enough credit. She marched straight into your home and snatched your wife. Don't you think for one fucking second that I'm not absolutely terrified she'll get Nee as well. You know how she is! If she thinks it'll aid the cause or whatever such nonsense runs through that brain of hers, she'll just walk right into it and there isn't fuck all I can do about it short of binding her in the chair beside you."

Harry's head slumped to his chest, the misdirected anger fleeting. He began nodding, understanding Draco Malfoy more than he ever wished too. On some level it still irked him his team took direction from Malfoy better than they ever had from him. It was his own fault, he knew it but it didn't help him feel any better about it. Harry knew if he had the slightest hope when it came to finding Chang, he'd have to rely on Malfoy.

"I hate my job." Harry sighed. Draco smirked and flicked his wand, instantly freeing Harry from his bonds. "What'd you do that for then?"

"Potter, don't complain about it. Simply say thank you Lord Draco Malfoy I will forever be in your debt because I'm a useless ponce without your brilliance." Draco wiggled his eyebrows and when there was no reaction he sighed. "Listen, any bloke that admits to detesting his job isn't going to run off half cocked in a fit of rage."

"Not bloody likely, so what's the plan then. I'm assuming you have one."

Lucius Malfoy burst into the library, eyes blazing obviously preparing to intercede and almost stumbled. He glanced quickly between his son and The Boy Who Irritated Him By Breathing and frowned. He immediately stalked toward the liquor cabinet and poured them all large droughts of firewhisky.

"Draco, since you've freed Potter I'm assuming you've come to some sort of agreement in order to preserve the welfare of my daughter-in-law and grandchildren? If there is even an inkling of discord between you, I shall not hesitate to curse you." Lucius wandered the room slowly, struggling to remain on his best behaviour. He did detest upsetting Narcissa and it was in his best interest to keep her placated at all times.

Draco rolled his eyes and helped himself to one of the tumblers laid upon the silver tray. Secretly he knew Hermione wouldn't approve of his drinking during such a tense situation, but if he was ever going to convince his father and Harry Potter to work together, a drink was the least of his problems.

"Potter, let's discuss the Trace for a moment. Did you place it on Astoria or Chang?"

"It would have been brilliant to have already had one on Astoria, wouldn't it? We didn't think of it Malfoy. We've set one on James of course, the day he was born in fact. I managed to cast it as she Apparated, so I'm not completely sure which one has it. It doesn't matter if they're in the same location." Harry gripped his dark hair and staring into the flames flickering in the fireplace.

"Minister Shacklebolt will be arriving by Floo for dinner this evening. He will be accompanying Adrien Pucey and a handful of Junior Aurors whose names I did not bother to retain. There has not been this many Ministry officials in Malfoy Manor since it was raided after…." Lucius refrained from referring to Voldemort as the Dark Lord, instead deciding to leave the sentence as it was. If his son and Harry Potter were not adept enough to discern his words they deserved to remain utterly clueless.

"Why do you think she's…collecting her victims? I mean before she would use her womanly wiles I suppose and ensnare them. It seemed she would take them, carve them and kill them or kill them and then carve them. She obviously chose her drop locations according to sentimentality." Harry downed the remaining glass of firewhisky quickly, hissing as he felt it burn his throat.

"Potter. You're forgetting she spoke with Hannah Nott. We can't even be angry with Hannah. Chang is quite aware we're closing in on her and it's apparent she's absolutely mental. I suppose she is determined to…"

"Blithering idiots the lot of you. It's obvious this Chang girl has a list. From what Hermione has told me during our delightful conversations over waffles…have you tried her waffles? They're heaven sent and…" Lucius closed his eyes and sighed in such a way his son was immediately uncomfortable.

"Father, please stop it."

"Regardless, the runes carved into the casualties are an incomplete message. She was Ravenclaw and therefore highly intelligent. The traumatic deaths of her husband and young child have altered her mental state, perhaps even degrading her ability to decipher fact from fiction, past from present. Cho Chang is choosing to blame Harry Potter for a death and the subsequent aftermath of her life. I'm also assuming the warped yet still logical portion of her thought processes have come to the conclusion it is simply justice for him to suffer as she has suffered. I can't say I agree with her methods, but the idea of causing Potter to suffer used to be one of my favourite pastimes." Lucius sniffed with disdain and refilled his glass.

"It doesn't help us find her Lucius." Harry snarled but he hadn't the chance to do more than glare angrily at the elder Malfoy due to the fact the younger Malfoy smacked him in the back of the head.

"Oi, Potter, the Trace, use it wanker."

* * *

"Wendell, isn't it lovely? We've another guest to keep us entertained." I shoved Astoria into her cell beside the cowering Ron Weasley and smiled broadly.

"You crazy bitch." Ron spat at me, but even his distaste for me couldn't ruin my delightful mood.

"You weren't complaining when you were fucking me." It was the sing song voice that did him in.

Ron's face turned a brilliant shade of red; it even managed to rival his hair. He finally managed to get to his feet. I couldn't even tell you why it was difficult for him. It wasn't as if I was spiking his water with vodka. Yes I was, but that wasn't the point at all. Angry, drunk Ron Weasley amuses me.

Besides, the minute I get Hermione Granger here, it will be like Hogwarts all over again. She'll be shouting at him for being a tubby drunken loser and he'll be rattling the bars of his cage shouting about her hair and her know it all attitude. Hell I wouldn't need to kill them, just carve them up a bit. They'd kill each other and my, what a scandal that would be.

"Ron, it's probably best if we don't engage her." Astoria Greengrass Potter sat on the corner of the cot and folded her hands as if she were fucking royalty or something.

"Shut up Stori! This is probably all your fault! She's demented and you went and married her old boyfriend." Ron shook the bars on his cell so hard I was hard pressed to keep from bursting into laughter. He looked absolutely ridiculous with his hair flying about and his face contorted in rage, never mind the obvious jiggle of his midsection. My, he truly had let himself go, no wonder he hadn't managed to draw a better wife than Millicent Bulstrode. "Hey! Leave Millie alone, she's a nice girl!" Apparently I had spoken aloud.

"You're drunk Ron!" Astoria had stood and shoved her arm through the bars to attempt to slap at Ron.

Wendell sat on the floor, ignoring the shouting around him in favour of staring at me. I don't know what he wished to accomplish, but he no longer mattered. He had shown his true colours and they were positively vile. I couldn't help but wonder how Hermione Granger Malfoy had turned into such a well rounded witch with the likes of him for a father. I couldn't give credit to her mum either as Wendell had discussed his wife's mental illness at length. She truly was an anomaly and wizarding kind would feel the loss heavily, which was exactly what I wished.

I had one empty cell. I had half a mind to separate Astoria and Ron as it seemed they were determined to slap each other's hands in their anger.

"Who's that one for then? Harry?" Ron finally declared himself the loser of the great Slap War and folded his arms across his burly chest with a growl.

"Harry? No, of course not, that would be ridiculous. I have no intention of capturing Harry Potter." I smiled giving Astoria a wink as the tension left her shoulders. "I intend to kill him. That cell there for Hermione."

"Why? Don't you think she's been through enough?"

"Aw is poor Ron feeling guilty? Come on then, tell Cho all about it." I pulled a dining chair into the corridor and sat directly in front of the bars of his cell.

It was easy to tempt him, especially when I withdrew the small flask from the pocket of my robes. I watched him lick his lips a few times and it was obvious he was fighting some sort of internal battle. If I had to guess, he was barely away I had been spiking his drinks.

"Don't do it Ron." Astoria was begging, it was cute.

"Why not? She's going to murder the lot of us anyway? What's it matter?" I held out the flask in silent offering, but he didn't reach for it. "She's right though, I promised I'd try."

"What do the promises of a death man matter to the one they've left behind? Do you honestly believe Hermione Malfoy would be angry with you for having one last drink? Do you believe your wife wouldn't be capable of understanding your plight?" I laughed and while it sounded strange to my ears, it wasn't unpleasant.

"It's not about them." Ron mumbled and it piqued my interest. If he wasn't worried about Hermione and Millicent's reproof then who had intimidated the poor bloke?

"Wait, don't tell me, it's Draco Malfoy isn't it? Did he pay you a visit? Threaten you a bit? Isn't that delicious? When was it? If I had to guess I'd say it was during that outlandish dinner party held at Forest Lake." The tips of Ron's ears reddened further which simply informed me I was absolutely correct.

"You weren't event there Ron!" Astoria threw a glass at the wall. She was only hurting herself; I only gave her the one.

"It wasn't at the bloody party, it was after. He corned me and said he knew all about the…the things I'd done before I stopped drinking and if I came near her or his family again he'd kill me."

"What did you do then?" This was deliciously juicy. If I had known this tidbit of information, do you know how bloody easy it would have been to implicate Draco Malfoy in my wave of carnage?

"I was just nasty alright? I said loads of things I shouldn't have and I might have shoved her a bit." Ron buried his face in his hands and I almost felt a wave of pity for him, but I never could understand a man that struck a woman.

It's slightly ironic I suppose. Here I am going about murdering unsuspecting witches and wizards on a personal vendetta of revenge yet I'm completely disgusted at the idea of violence against women. How's that for a shocker? Sometimes I even manage to surprise myself.

Ron's tale wasn't nearly as juicy as I thought it would be. I was a bit disappointed. I didn't need him to tell me Draco had smacked him around a bit. It was obvious from the way he was curled around himself and the anger he was expressing. Draco Malfoy could barely stand it when other men looked at his wife, touching her? Well, at least Ron was still alive. I would have been quite put out if that arrogant bastard had disrupted my plans.

I didn't wish to spend the rest of the day engaging in civil conversations with the dead. I had better things to do with my time. I had to prepare the surface. It wouldn't be sanitary to carve into their skin on a dirty table now would it? I also had to send an owl to my very good friend. He'd help me with infiltrating whatever safe place the Ministry had scurried away the Malfoys.

"Is it exciting? I'm almost done. Perhaps I've earned a bit of a rest after this. One more and my collection's complete." I clapped my hands, ignoring the sweat dripping down my brow and the hysteria begging to escape.

I didn't have time for hysteria. I had to prepare. I knew Harry had cast some sort of spell during Apparition and knowing him it was a bloody Trace. I had already carved Wendell. He was expecting it which strangely enough, sucked the joy right out of the situation.

I suppose he knew he never stood a chance. It's his own fault really. If he had bothered to give one shit about someone besides himself and his own selfish desires, it could have ended differently. I mean, I still would have marked him but I wouldn't have killed him. I believe that's saying quite a lot.

I had already decided if I couldn't get Granger, I'd settle for marking Astoria and Ron. It's better than nothing, but I had a secret weapon of sorts. I couldn't wait for him to arrive.

He didn't share my agenda, but his hatred of Harry ran deep. He was completely childish, but he was exactly what I needed. It didn't matter. I didn't care why he was willing to help me as long as he did.

Merlin I felt so bloody happy I could sing. I wanted to spin in circles the way Henry used to spin in the dewy grasses. I wanted to laugh as I held him tightly in my arms. I felt the laughter in my chest long before it escaped my lips and I let it. I needed it. It was exhausting to keep everything hidden but there wasn't a need for that anymore now was there?

I flounced onto the sofa for the first time in years and the telly popped on. I wasn't expecting that. I hadn't touched the sofa let alone sat on it since the last time we were all here together, as a family. There was one of those little black boxes wedged between the cushions and when I yanked it out, I must have hit a button because the cabin was filled with music.

There was a strange red-haired girl fish swimming and talking and it hurt my head. It figures it would be a bloody ginger, those Weasleys sure managed to get around now didn't they? I ignored it but I couldn't turn it off. It was probably the last thing Henry had watched here. He did love his videos.

"_Look at this stuff…Isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the girl…The girl who has everything?" _I couldn't help but smile.

I was spinning in circles on the stained hardwood floor because if I closed my eyes I could see Henry doing the same. I remembered then, I remembered him slapping the screen while shouting 'fish mummy fish' and it had been beautiful.

"_But who cares? No big deal, I want more." _ I did want more. It was a sign.

Henry was telling me it was alright. I was sure of it. He was guiding me and I could trust him. He wanted me to collect the final piece of my collection. Well that wasn't necessarily true. He was telling me to collect the second to last piece of my collection. Once I collected her, Harry Potter would come for me and I would be ready.

* * *

Draco Malfoy loved to watch his wife. It was the only time the tension ebbed. She was standing in his childhood bedroom slowly rocking Xander to sleep. He imagined the tot had been quite the handful considering the Manor was a veritable maze of trouble. Draco padded across the plush carpet slowly and wrapped his arms around his family.

"Merlin you scared me." Hermione dropped her head onto his chest, turning to kiss his jaw.

"You shouldn't be carrying him about. Give him here; I'll put him to bed." He carefully slipped Xander out of Hermione's arms and tucked him into the ridiculously large bed.

"I'm pregnant not an invalid." Draco smiled, gently leading her toward their room across the hall. He knew she wasn't truly angry with him. Her voice was light and airy with the slightest trace of a smile.

Draco remained silent, pressing her into the ornately carved door the moment it shut. His hands fumbled beneath her nightgown, searching for the knickers which didn't exist.

"Minx." He whispered against her skin, lavishing her exposed skin with small kisses and nibbles.

Impatiently he tore the cream nightgown from her body, his hands unsteady. Hermione knew something was wrong. He hadn't been nervous to touch her since the beginning. He was hiding something important. She had learned over time when Draco was especially focused on a particular case or he believed a particular situation would unduly impact them, he drowned himself in her. He had been almost insatiable the past few weeks and tonight it was coming to a head.

Hermione allowed him to lead her toward the four poster bed centered against the furthest wall without a fuss. It wasn't as if she didn't enjoy his voracious nature, it was the aftermath which concerned her the most. It was impossible to concentrate on such things when he was paying homage to her willing body however.

She ignored the sounds of slapping and wanton moans from the room next door, wishing Nick and Daphne would utilise stronger Silencing Charms, but it wasn't long before she was no longer concerned with their sexual habits, instead concentrating on the very talented lips of the wizard on top of her.

Later when she was exploring the smooth expanse of her husband's chest she sighed before kissing his heart. Draco was staring at the ceiling, one arm bent beneath his head, the fingers on his other hand lightly stroking Hermione's bare back. She knew he was troubled and decided now was as good a time as any to broach the subject.

"When are you leaving?" Draco closed his eyes. He assumed she would be furious with him, but her gentle acceptance was even more heart wrenching.

"If Potter manages to coordinate everything properly, then sometime tomorrow. I'm definitely hopeful it will not be before lunch. I've arranged for Teddy to come and spend a bit of time with Xander. They could both use some socialization. I'd rather enjoy watching them run about. What do you think we'll have?" Draco suddenly flipped onto his side and kissed her upturned nose.

He never got tired of touching her. Hermione thought it was incredibly sweet, but he was avoiding the details surrounding the mission. She smiled when his palm came to rest upon her stomach as it often did these days. The quiet thump was akin to watching a small child on Christmas morning and never ceased to amaze her.

"Your father is adamant we're having a boy. He says all first born children are boys and anything else would be a blight on the family tree. Then your mother hexed him. It was a jolly good show."

"I'm quite sorry I missed it then. Listen. Chang bounced around quite a bit after she snatched Stori, but between Shacklebolt and Potter they've managed to have a general idea where she's located. They're sending out the first team at daybreak. I'll be leaving mid-afternoon as part of the second team. We decided it was best to head out in waves. Shacklebolt wanted to take the lead but I requested to lead the second team. I don't trust them and I'd rather like to keep an eye on them. I'd like to have a girl. I know that doesn't have any bearing on the case, but I wanted you to know, just in case…"

"You mean in case anything were to happen to you, you can't think like that I wouldn't…" Hermione clutched him, her fingers digging into his sweat slicked skin and shook her head, refusing to believe for an instant of the dangers ahead.

"I'll be careful, that's what I'm taking the second team. I'm not going to go in there wand waving, blasting and hexing. That's Potter's job." His smirk was lost in a sea of curls, yet he didn't mind in the least. "Do you remember the gift I brought you from Italy?" Draco stroked the curve of her hip, molding her to his body.

"Of course, it was lovely. You know I set it in the nursery, did you know it's changed?" Hermione attempted to extricate herself but Draco wouldn't allow such a thing.

"I brought it with us. She doesn't cry any longer. I think it's in tune with you, as strange as that sounds. It's in the drawer of the bedside table in case you'd like to give it a gander. I take it you remember the inscription as well." Draco used his tongue to toy with her earlobe, sufficiently distracting her from the anxiety of his mission.

"Hope, that's why you wish for a daughter?" Hermione sunk into the comfort of arms, her heart near bursting as it filled it love.

"Ara actually, you know I have traditions to keep…"

"Yes and you were bloody dead set on naming our child Scorpius if it happened to be a boy. Tell me then, what's so special about Ara?"

"Why it's south of Scorpius of course. Ara Hope." He nuzzled her neck, leaving a trail of delectable kisses along her jaw.

"It doesn't go together particularly well now does it?" She sighed knowing in the end, she would bend to his demands. He asked so little after all.

"Doesn't matter, we'll call her Hope and my parents will be appeased."

"What if we have a boy then?"

"Scorpius and whatever middle name you wish. I'll leave it completely in your hands as long as it's not Harry."

Hermione laughed then, great peals of laughter filled their temporary bedroom.

"You're doing it wrong!" Daphne pounded on the wall between their rooms, which simply sent them into another round of inappropriate laughter.

They didn't hear the shouts or even the screams. Neither did they hear the spells crashing into Malfoy family heirlooms. They were completely unaware of the the rapid pounding of feet upon the staircases as they were lost in their beautiful moment. It wasn't until there was an insistent fist beating upon their door did they become hyper aware of the sounds around them.

Draco leapt from the bed, hissing as the cool night air chilled him to the bone. Hastily he thrust his arms into the robe he had left draped across the bottom of the four poster. He yanked open the door intending to berate the breathless Potter but the fire blazing in the green eyes stopped him cold.

"Malfoy! She's here!"


	25. Checkmate

**AN: Yes, yes I'm aware it's been forever and a day since I've posted and I apologise but sometimes life swoops in and has its own ideas of what is important. I haven't given up on this story or any of the others, but it will take me a smidgen of time to catch up.**

**Also. There is a bit of discrepancy in this chapter. In chapter 24 I mentioned Draco &amp; Hermione's chambers were across the hall from Xander's and in this chapter they're beside each other. Let's just pretend they were always beside each other because I wasn't of a mind to rewrite an entire section because of it. Hopefully that's the only thing and if there's more well I'm sure someone will make a point to inform me.**

**As always thanks for reading. *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 25 – Checkmate

* * *

"_Take me. Nothing will hurt worse than that. That's your goal isn't it? To cause as much pain as you've endured? What could be worse than taking Hermione Granger's husband? She'd never forgive Harry Potter and he can't function without her. Leave them here to wallow in their own misery. Take me."_

* * *

"Why…why did he do that?" Hermione sobbed into Xander's dark curls, holding him so tightly he grunted in pain, pushing against her chest.

"Hermione…"

"No Harry, she's going to kill him. You know she is. Did you see her?"

"Hermione…"

"If anything happens to him Harry, she's right, I'll never forgive you." Hermione stumbled into Malfoy Manor without a backward glance.

Harry knew she would be gone before he stepped foot inside. He had seen the fire in her eyes. She wanted to go home. He didn't blame her, he couldn't. He could scarcely breathe at the thought of Astoria and Ron in Cho Chang's evil clutches, but he wasn't authorized to do a bloody thing.

"Fucking Kingsley." Harry muttered angrily and blasted a nearby innocent shrub.

"Potter, are you aware that your best mate Granger is blasting Malfoy family heirlooms and bloody Lucius is helping her?" Blaise Zabini managed a small snicker until Nick shoved him into the shrubbery.

"Aiight Harry, come on then. We've gotta do sumthin' otherwise I'm uh pretty sure Hermione is gonna cut our balls awf."

"What is it you'd like me to do? Shacklebolt has ordered me to remain here."

"Pussy." Nick spat and while Blaise was mildly impressed with the American Aurors assessment, he was more concerned with the shrieks of rage stemming from within the Manor.

"I-you…you're not being fair!" Harry threw his hands into the air with exasperation.

"This ain't about bein' fair, Harry. This former flame o' yours has killed a buncha people. We can't just sit hea and do a buncha nuthin'."

"The American's right, you're Harry bloody Potter. It's not like the Minister is going to fire you for finding your bollocks."

Harry closed his eyes, unconsciously rubbing his scar and recalled the events which had led them here.

"_Oh yes, the illustrious Mr. Potter has graced us with his inept presence." Lucius Malfoy smirked in the way only a Malfoy could while he sipped upon his goblet of elf wine._

"_Yes, Lucius go on then mock me if you like. It's not exactly conducive to anything, but by all means anything to make you feel better." Harry wished his wife were beside him, cuddled into his side while their son slumbered in her arms._

_Instead he was bound to an uncomfortable chair forced to listen to Lucius Malfoy while Hermione and Draco were nowhere in sight. He assumed they were putting Xander down for the night, but he knew it wouldn't be long before they were following Daphne and Nick's sickening example._

"_Enough Potter, I believe we've been tasked with using the Trace. Have you put any thought into the matter or are your bonds keeping you from utilising your magic?" Harry couldn't be sure if Lucius was sincere or facetious once more and quirked his head to the side in silent contemplation._

"_You going to release me then?"_

"_Perhaps." Lucius Malfoy was enjoying the irritation stemming from a bound Harry Potter and he smirked accordingly in the moments before he flicked his wand to release the bonds._

_Harry leapt from the chair, wincing as the feeling tingled its way back into his limbs. He swished and flicked his wand, muttering under his breath until thin wisps strewn from the end of his wand. He sighed in relief as they twisted and spun in the air, seemingly leading him. _

"_Lucius…" Harry whispered, his eyes tight with anxiety._

"_Potter." Lucius interrupted as he often did, sucking back yet another quip as his grey eyes followed the swirling wisps until they gathered in an almost corporeal form near the front door of the Manor._

"_She's here." Harry whispered creeping down the long corridor as he watched the wisps of magic hover delicately._

"_You're the mastermind that managed to save the wizarding world? You do have a penchant for stating the obvious." Lucius sniffed with disdain._

_He squared his shoulders and marched toward the imposing ornate door. Harry dutifully followed, gripping his wand, preparing to battle whomsoever was on the other side. He didn't imagine it was Astoria. She would never venture to Malfoy Manor alone. A small piece of him hoped against hope Ron had managed to escape and bring Astoria to safety even as Lucius casually opened the door._

"_Ah yes, Ms. Chang, do come in." _

"_What are you doing?" Harry hissed, hiding behind a leafy potted plant beside the door._

"_Do you think I'm stupid Mr. Malfoy? I might be a little out of my mind, but that doesn't make me stupid. I assume Harry Potter is cowering behind the door. It wasn't particularly smart to gather all these tempting treats in one location now was it? It was much more difficult when they were dispersed, so thank you for that." Cho Chang actually winked at Lucius Malfoy as she dangled his wand from her fingertips._

_He was quite put out he'd never heard her utter a solitary word, nor felt the extension of himself vanish from his fist. She was more accomplished than he thought which really was his downfall. Cho had the nerve to wink at him before casting the spell which sent him flying into the shelf of antique vases. As his eyes fluttered shut, Lucius groaned, not from the pain but from knowing the cost of replacing Narcissa's prize trinkets. _

"_Expelliarmus!"_

"_Protego. Really Harry, after all this time, you still rely on first year spells? How terribly quaint of you. Come along then, we've got a bit of work to do. Where is she?" Cho stabbed her wand into Harry's throat, reveling in the satisfaction of power over the Chosen One._

"_She's not here." Harry spat, his green eyes blazing. For a moment he wondered how he had ever thought her attractive._

"_You always were a terrible liar. Astoria screamed until she was hoarse when I carved into her skin. She begged and pleaded. I almost had half a mind to listen to her, but in the end I decided against it. Be thankful I didn't mar her face." Cho laughed lightly and shoved Harry down the corridor._

"_Hermione would never come here. She detests Malfoy Manor, even you should know that much." Harry glanced around the foyer quickly, silently wishing the portraits would give him aid or even that Lucius would awaken. _

_Instead he was face to face with a man he never thought to suspect. For a moment Harry wondered if he could make a break for it. The stairs were just to his right and if he could make it to the curve, he'd have half a chance. If his newfound enemy on the other hand, ventured toward the bedchambers Harry knew he didn't stand a chance. The others would believe him and all would be lost._

"_Finally! It took you bloody long enough now didn't it? You were supposed to secure the others before I arrived." Cho gestured with her wand, which gave Harry ample opportunity to shove her._

_She hadn't the sense to use his silly first year spell on him and therefore Harry retained use of his wand. Later she would curse her error in judgement but as it was she was busy flailing across the marble floor attempting to avoid yet another shelf of precious family heirlooms. Her partner in crime simply gaped as she crashed into a curio cabinet filled with china, hissing as the glass showered over her._

"_Stupefy!" Harry's shaking hand flung the spell toward Cho's companion, missing him by mere inches._

"_Reducto!" He shouted, blasting the wall nearest the Boy Who Lived in a desperate attempt to cause mayhem._

_Harry spun on his heel and raced up the staircase, banging on every closed door until he reached Draco and Hermione's chambers. He was vaguely aware of more shouts and crashes below him and assumed Lucius had regain consciousness to join into the fray._

"_Open up you wanker!" Harry's fists pounded the heavy wood desperately. He fumbled for his wand and removed the Silencing charm with a quickness. "Malfoy! Come on!" He heard fumbling on the interior and bounced on the balls of his feet._

_Draco threw open the bedroom door with anger in his silver eyes while thrusting his arms into a robe. His mouth opened as if to berate the green eyed interrupting wizard, yet stopped upon seeing the abject terror in his eyes._

"_Malfoy! She's here!" Draco yanked Harry into the bedchamber and slammed the door shut, instantly casting various protection spells._

"_Nee, Potter's going to take you to the nursery. Please don't argue love, I can't risk you." He kissed her forehead and rushed to the wardrobe._

"_Harry? What's going on? Is she really here? How did she get through the wards? I don't understand." Hermione wrapped her arms around her midsection while backing away from the door slowly._

_Harry pretended he was unaware of her disheveled nature, deciding now wasn't the time to berate the couple for their amorous activities. Hermione dropped her head, blushing brightly as she began buttoning her nightgown and smoothing the wrinkles. Harry offered her the blush silk robe from the end of the four poster bed and averted his eyes._

_The shouts and spells firing were growing louder by each passing second. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before Chang came bursting into the bedchamber to snatch her away. It was bad enough Cho Chang had murdered witches and wizards for some convoluted sense of justice but knowing his wife and Ron were among her…well he couldn't even say the word casualties let alone think it. The idea that Hermione could be next was eating him alive. He had promised to protect her, years before Draco Malfoy was ever a blip on her romantic radar. Harry couldn't imagine Draco taking it well either. He loved her in a way Harry had never thought him capable. _

"_Malfoy." Hermione whispered as she plucked the sleeve of his light blue button down. She stroked the material softly, willing the tears to remain at bay._

"_Nee, it'll be alright. The nursery is just next door. I'll create a door in the closet. You won't even have to step into the hall. I'll contact Nick as well. He's just on the other side of our chambers of which you're well aware." Draco smirked while he smoothed Hermione's unruly curls from her forehead._

"_Please, don't go." Hermione shuddered slightly and swallowed hard. "We can just…send a Patronus to the Ministry and…"_

"_They'll come in wands blazing and we'll never find Stori or the Weasel. I can't live with that and I don't think you could either." Harry suddenly found the wall coverings incredibly interesting and studied them as Draco drew Hermione into his arms. "She'll kill you if she gets the chance. She won't care that you're pregnant, not now. She's too fucking angry. I need you to stay here. I need you to hold Xander tight and keep our little one safe. I know you want to argue with me Granger. It's who you bloody are. I know you detest standing on the sidelines when the people you love are out and about fighting their arses off but you have to understand, love. If you're out there, I won't be able to do what needs to be done. I won't be able to concentrate."_

"_But Malfoy, if you'd just…"_

"_No. I can't. You're the first woman I've ever loved. You're the first woman who showed me I was capable of loving anyone besides myself quite frankly and…and…dammit, I can't. Don't ask me. For once in your bloody life just do what you're fucking told, would you?" Draco shook her a bit, his fingers digging into the soft skin of her arms as tears pricked her eyes._

"_Hermione as much as it pains me, Malfoy's right. You might be the brightest witch of whatever but that doesn't mean you have to go around trying to fix everything. Chang got the drop on Lucius for Merlin's sake. She wouldn't hesitate to incapacitate you and that puts your child in danger. Quit being so bloody stubborn, get your arse in the nursery and let us handle things. We're fucking Aurors for Merlin's sake!" As the sounds in the corridor turned into a cacophony of violence, Draco dragged his wife into the closet._

_Hermione stumbled after him, surprised by Harry's outburst yet knowing he wasn't wrong. It hurt her to admit such things, but even she knew now wasn't the time for such laments. She watched with ever present curiosity as Draco murmured the magical words which created the door between rooms. She was unable to make her feet cross the threshold, gasping in surprise when Draco swept her up into his arms. He kissed her temple and her cheek while whispering 'I love you' in her ear and set her on her feet near the extraordinarily large bed. Draco waved his wand, transforming the bed into a crib for safety before he brushed Xander's dark hair from his forehead and bent to kiss his brow._

"_Stop it, please stop it. Stop acting as if this is goodbye. It'll be alright, you'll be alright. You were an amazing Auror and well Harry's fine and…"_

"_Hermione…" Draco reached for her hand, but she snatched it away, her chest heaving with quickened breaths._

"_No, don't do that. You don't call me Hermione, not ever." Draco despised seeing his wife in such a state and it pained him._

_He wanted nothing more than to hold her tight until all the madness ceased to exist but he was long past childish ideals. It was time to put an end to the moments which caused his wife to tremble in fear. It was time to magic a pair of brass bollocks onto the Wonder Boy and finish this once and for all._

"_Nee, she's right down the hall. Do this for me, please." Xander fussed in his sleep, their heads instantly spinning toward the toddler when the door blasted off its hinges eliciting a screaming wail from the grumpy child._

"_Well well well, what do we have here? If it isn't the Malfoys and a Potter. Do come out Potter, now isn't the time to cower away like the pathetic wizard you are." Adrian Pucey flicked his wand and Hermione was pinned to the wall._

_His dark eyes were shining with an unmatched hatred even Draco didn't understand. Draco wasn't surprised by the former Slytherins arrival. He was used to such betrayals from his house. Adrian took a few small steps into the room and removed his cloak._

"_Do you know how demoralizing it is to be forced to work beneath Harry Bloody Potter? What is he famous for? Oh yes that's right, not fucking dying which is absolute bollocks if you ask me. It didn't matter that I've worked my arse off at the Ministry, not one bit because Harry Potter here is the Saviour of the world and we should all bend over and let him shove his celebrity right up our collective arses. I couldn't believe my luck when I stumbled across Chang dumping Edgecombe. How do ya think she always managed to stay one step ahead of you lot? She's smart enough but combining our inside information was bloody genius if I do say so my…"_

"_Avada Kedavra!" Cho Chang, looking slightly worse for the wear stumbled into the nursery with fire in her eyes._

_Her blue robes were a bit mussed, with specks of soot and even shards of glass clinging to the fabric. Her dark hair was tangled and knotted as well. Cho's face showed the evidence of a scuffle and Draco hoped his father had injured the bint, but she seemed to be capable of remaining on her feet. The deep gouge on her cheek dripped blood down her cheek to her chin, before sliding down the column of her neck and Hermione managed to squelch the smile dancing at the corner of her lips._

"_He always did talk too much." Cho kicked Adrian's inert form with a curled lip of derision._

_Hermione slid down the wall the moment Adrian Pucey took his last breath. She rose to her feet slowly, so as not to draw attention to herself and stood in front of Xander's crib defensively. Draco threaded his fingers with hers, holding her tight. _

"_Why?" Harry took a tentative step toward the angry witch._

_He tucked his wand into his back pocket before holding his hands out in silent supplication. Cho wiped the blood from her cheek, smearing it across her jaw and frowned. He knew she was struggling internally and part of him wondered if he even wanted to know the answer._

"_It's obvious Harry." Hermione whispered, consciously blocking Xander from view._

"_Go on then Miss-Know-It-All; tell the esteemed Harry Potter why I'm systematically killing off his friends." Cho crossed her arms yet kept her wand trained on Hermione. She knew Harry Potter would never risk his precious friend's life._

_Draco released a low growl but the warm hand tightening on his soothed his rage to a certain extent. He wanted to rush her, slam her into the wall and perhaps even raise his hand against a woman for the first time in his life, but he didn't. He was most unwilling to risk his family, even to catch a notorious serial killer._

"_Cedric Diggory." Hermione countered and while Draco knew her knees were shaking, she looked cool, calm and collected._

_It was almost satisfying to watch Cho Chang's almond eyes widen as they filled with horror and pain. It would have been better if she had slipped with her wand, but Draco knew better. Harry blinked a few times, pretending to take a moment to process the information, but it wasn't anything Hermione hadn't shouted at him before. _

"_You're blaming the wrong person. It's not my bloody fault the madman that killed my parents and basically destroyed my life decided to kill an innocent. He killed lots of bloody innocents. Are they all my fault as well?" Hermione frowned and Harry swallowed hard._

_He was losing his temper and that was the last thing they wanted to happen. It was necessary to keep her distracted and Harry fervently hoped the Ministry team was able to discover the whereabouts of his wife and best mate. He had taken a risk in contacting Shacklebolt in the scant moments before Chang ventured into the Manor, but it was a risk he had to take. Harry hadn't expected a reply, nor had he received one yet it did not keep him from praying. He disliked being the sort of wizard who had something to lose. It wasn't a position he was familiar with and it set him on edge. He couldn't imagine the horrors flitting through Hermione's mind or even Draco's palpable fear. Harry had his own demons and he finally decided after this mission, he was done working for the Ministry. He had finally found something to life for and it wasn't putting away former Death Eaters._

"_I haven't the time for such nonsense. I'm going to assume you've already contacted the Ministry Harry which really doesn't leave me with a bit of time. Come along then Hermione, you wouldn't want me to have to resort to blasting away your husband or even that child you're hiding behind you." Cho chuckled lightly, covering her mouth and for a moment, Harry was reminded of the demure witch she had once been._

_Hermione took the smallest step forward, even as Draco held her hand fast and Harry frowned. She was always a selfless sort of person, which is probably why she wound up sorted into Gryffindor in the first place. Her mine knew no bounds but it was her heart which carved her path in life._

"_If I go with you…you can't hurt them." Hermione's voice trembled even as she ignored the pain in her fingers._

_Draco was unaware he was gripping her so tightly, his concentration broken by Xander climbing to his feet, his hands stretching toward Hermione's long dark curls. From the corner of his eye, he could see Xander frowning with frustration as he was unable to reach his mum. His cheeks pinkened and his dark eyebrows furrowed. Draco knew it was only a matter of moments before there was yet another explosion of uncontrolled magic and he could only hope it would work to his advantage._

_Hermione was vaguely aware of Xander's small feet bouncing in his crib and his mumbled murmurs of 'mum mum mum', but she kept her eyes focused on Cho. She knew Draco would be furious with her, but she had to believe Cho wouldn't hurt her. She was angry. She was bereft of guilt and consumed by grief. It was obvious she was incapable of thinking clearly and yet she hadn't irrevocably harmed any expecting witch while on her rampage._

"_You really are quite the do-gooder aren't you? It must be absolutely exhausting." Cho sighed and tapped her forefinger against her jaw as she contemplated Hermione's words. "Alright then, I solemnly swear I shan't hurt a hair upon Draco Malfoy's head nor the child. I refuse to make any such promises where Harry Potter is concerned and if you press me on the matter I'll Avada all of you where you stand."_

_Hermione nodded quickly, accepting the terms. She knew the end game was always Harry and expected nothing less from the disheveled witch. She took another step forward, but Draco refused to release her hand._

"_Malfoy…" She pleaded, glancing at their entwined fingers, knowing he was struggling to maintain his composure._

"_I'm so fucking angry with you." Draco's lips barely moved and the tic in his cheek fluttered furiously._

"_I know. I'll be alright. You'll find me. I've got to go." Xander stamped furiously shrieking as his bright eyes flicked between his new parents._

"_No! No go! Mum! Want mum! NOW!" Xander bellowed and Harry was hard-pressed to keep his hands from covering his ears._

_He closed his green eyes which was a mistake as he missed the brilliant flash of light, hearing only the loud boom, reminiscent of thunder. He opened his eyes to find them clouded with smoke. Cho Chang was coughing, still keeping a firm hold on her wand whereas Draco crossed his arms with a smirk, quite satisfied with himself. Harry glanced about the bedchamber to see Hermione and Xander had disappeared._

"_She tricked me that bitch!" Cho Chang's hands trembled with barely contained rage._

_Draco and Harry knew they had to move quickly before the Killing Curse escaped her lips once more. Harry drew his wand, yet before he could utter a single spell he was overcome with a coughing fit, rendering him useless. Draco attempted to push past Cho in order to suss out where his family had ventured off too, yet he was struck with more force than he expected. He stumbled backward, flinching as his back hit the corner of a wall._

"_Impedimenta!" Cho shouted in their direction before she spun on her heel to race through the corridors of the Manor._

_Harry chased after her, shoving Nick out of the way while he shoved Daphne back into their bedchamber. Harry was aware of Nick heavily warding the door before following him down the corridor. He assumed Draco wasn't far behind and part of him even hoped Lucius would be waiting for the deranged witch at the bottom of the stairs._

_Instead he was greeted with a scene he never expected. Cho had blasted Blaise and Lucius into a sea of potted plants and rushed out the front door to run smack into Hermione and Xander._

"_I didn't do it. He did it, I promise." Hermione backed away slowly, cradling a fussy Xander in her arms._

"_My mum." Xander sniffled into Hermione's hair, his sweaty fists tangled in her curls. "No go."_

_Cho staggered on her feet before her lip curled in distaste. Harry was half inclined to hex her but Cho shoved her wand against Xander's throat stopping everyone cold. The rapid succession of feet across marble slid to a halt. The angry voices ceased their shouts and it was almost as if time stood still._

"_Please, don't hurt him. I'll go with you, just let me…please let me give him to Malfoy and…"_

"_You've just got it all don't you?" Cho's voice dripped with venom yet she couldn't tear her eyes from the curly headed brunette in Hermione's arms. "Give him to me."_

_Hermione shook her head quickly, stumbling backward. Draco growled and Hermione was thankful Harry was holding him back. The last thing she wanted was any of them caught in the cross fire of Chang's misplaced rage. It was obvious she didn't know how to hold the witch off and Cho's eyes narrowed dangerously. Hermione swallowed hard, never feeling more inept then she did at that moment._

_She couldn't think straight. She could barely breathe and her family's life was being held in a precarious balance. She closed her eyes as the tears began to fall, wondering for a moment if this was how Lily Potter felt in the seconds before she died. She would do anything for Xander, for Draco, even for their unborn child and while she didn't wish to die, Hermione would willingly throw herself before any curse so they may live._

"_Draco…" Hermione whimpered when Cho wrenched her arm from Xander, twisting it painfully._

_Draco Malfoy made a choice. He shoved Harry Potter and his father with such force they hit the ground with a thud. He wrestled away from Nick and Blaise, foregoing his wand for Muggle violence. He ran across the stone portico as fast as his feet would carry him. With a passionate rage he hadn't felt since the war, Draco grasped Cho Chang by the shoulders and flung her to the ground before standing protectively in front of his family. He felt Hermione creep up behind him, her palm pressing against his shoulder blade and the warmth of Xander against his back. Draco breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his wife was terrified and his son, sweet Merlin he gasped at the enormity of emotion he felt for the child as he watched Chang struggle to her feet._

"_You're going to bloody pay for that Malfoy. The question is whether it will be your wife or child." Cho sneered, her face contorted in such a way Hermione could barely recognise the girl she once was._

_Draco took his eyes off Cho for a moment, knowing it would confuse her and kissed Hermione hard. He stroked Xander's curls and kissed the top of his head._

"_I love you," he whispered, "forgive me." Draco turned his back on them, closing his eyes so he could not see the hurt, the confusion and finally the understanding in Hermione's eyes._

"_You've made your choice then?" Cho laughed, her voice cackling with deranged glee even as Draco shook his head._

"_Take me. Nothing will hurt worse than that. That's your goal isn't it? To cause as much pain as you've endured? What could be worse than taking Hermione Granger's husband? She'd never forgive Harry Potter and he can't function without her. Leave them here to wallow in their own misery. Take me."_

_Cho Chang's eyes shone with delight and she nodded eagerly reaching for him. Draco ignored the shouts of protest, the warm fingers grasping to the edge of his shirt._

"_Protego" He muttered, trapping his family, loved ones and even Potter behind him as Cho dug her wand into his throat with a smile. "Potter!" Draco shouted, waiting for the green eyed wizard to look upon him. "I'm counting on you!"_

_With a flash of laughter from Cho and a glower from Draco, they were gone and Harry felt the weight of the world on his shoulders once more._

* * *

Hermione Granger was used to having the answers. It had always been her way to immediately venture into the library and scour various tomes until the pieces put themselves together and a brilliant plan emerged. However, in this case, she was truly at a loss and it shook her to her core. She paced the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, ignoring the fact it was a room which once brought her terror and stroked Xander's back, willing her mind to wake from its trance.

"Mum-mum." Xander patted her face, pulling away from her tight embrace to study her eyes.

She felt as though she were looking at her father, waste of space that he was, as Xander's clear blue eyes stared into her brown. She swore the child was worried for her but that was ridiculous, wasn't it? It was obvious he had magic bursting in him from the seams, but there was knowledge there as well.

"It's alright baby, we'll figure it out. Da will be back soon." Hermione didn't believe the words but she had to tell him something.

"Da? Want Da. My Da bye bye." Xander angrily crossed his arms, immediately pouting at the very thought he couldn't have exactly what he wanted.

"That's right little man, your dad had to go bye bye with that bloody bint and…"

"Blaise! Language!" Blaise Zabini had casually sauntered into the room needing a reprieve from the constant bickering between Harry and Nick.

He scooped Xander from Hermione's arms and ruffled his hair. He'd never spent much time around small children, but he didn't mind Xander. He thought the kid had been dealt a rough hand and it was obvious he had been denied the basic love and attention every child requires by how quickly he'd become attached to the Malfoys. Xander smiled up at the tanned wizard and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Fuck, bad. Shit, bad. Bint, bad. Da sayes no. Want Da now peas." Xander's bottom lip thrust forward in a heart wrenching pout which managed to pull at Blaise's hardened heartstrings.

"I'm sorry little man. Your dad had to…" Blaise sighed, looking to Hermione to rescue him but she was staring into the fireplace. "There was a woman and she's not a nice woman and she took your Da away for a little bit. We'd like to go and get him but we can't quite do that…"

"Why?" Xander inquired while patting Blaise's cheek. He had a quiet sort of obsession with cheek patting but it was endearing.

"Well uhm, we don't know where they are." Blaise choked on the words despising the fact he was forced to say such things to Malfoy's kid.

"Down." Xander kicked his feet until Blaise had no other choice but to set the boy on his feet unless he wished to suffer extensive bruising of his abdomen.

He watched the boy toddle to the center of the room with his arms wide. Blaise sat on the settee determined to watch him while his mother was incapacitated by what he imagined was guilt. Blaise never thought of Draco as a self sacrificing sort of bloke, but he supposed things changed when you loved someone as much as Draco loved Hermione.

Luna floated into the room with a blank stare, which startled Blaise slightly. He could hardly recall a moment when Luna didn't have a wispy smile pasted on her face. That wasn't exactly true, there was the day Luna became absolutely enraged with Harry due to the fate of some Nargles, but that wasn't a regular occurrence. He studied her stiff movements but she only had eyes for Xander. She squatted in front of the small boy and stroked his cheek.

"Are you ready honey?" Luna's singsong voice floated in the silence and Blaise braced his arms on his knees, a sense of foreboding coursing through his veins.

"Go now?" Xander nodded his head quickly, his dark curls bouncing with excitement. He tugged on his pajama shirt, decorated with some ridiculous fluffy animal and flashed Luna his dimples with an impish smile.

"Luna…" Blaise growled, instantly standing in preparation for whatever harebrained idea his wife was formulating.

He stepped forward only to be halted by a particularly strong Shielding Charm though he never saw Luna draw her wand. Blaise looked to Xander and the tiny imp smiled and waved, the little bastard. Hermione had finally shaken herself from her stupor but was also imprisoned by the Charm. It didn't seem to bother her in the slightest, almost as if she was used to such antics and perhaps she was.

"It's alright Blaise. Xander here is simply demanding his father." Luna smiled over her shoulder, trying to ease her husband's angst.

"We don't even know where the fuck he is Luna! You can't just go off with a bloody toddler!" Blaise was shouting, drawing the attention of the other witches and wizards.

He could hear their footsteps in the corridor, just outside the drawing room but Blaise was determined to keep his gaze set on Luna.

"Blaise? What's going on?" Harry Potter cracked open the door, his mouth dropping open at the scene before him.

"Harry, I think dat Xander kid has tossed up dat shield." Nick edged around Harry, studying the flickering edges of the Shield Charm with a practiced eye.

"Shouldn't you be shagging Daphne and leaving the sleuthing to those more qualified?" Harry was quite irritated with the American Auror if only for the reason Nick had sided with Blaise when it came to the ideas tossed about for a rescue mission.

"She's tired, thought I'd give 'er a rest." Nick winked and Harry's fingers twitched as he stroked the hilt of his wand.

"You're disgusting."

"Jealous much?" Nick chuckled while leaning casually against the doorjamb.

"Go now?" Xander poked Luna's arm incessantly drawing her attention back to him.

Luna smiled and nodded slowly while fluffing her multicoloured tiered skirt. She flung her long dishwater blonde hair over her shoulder and stood. Luna took Xander's small hand in her own and turned to face her friends.

"He's much brighter than any of you have given him credit. He hasn't quite mastered his magic but that will come with time and a bit of training I imagine. Xander is quite stubborn and while it isn't exactly in his best interest to go alone, he would if it came down to it. It's quite handy I was paying attention to the whisperings of the Blibbering Humdingers, of course they were laughing at me as they often do but they were quite informative when it came to sweet Xander here. They told me he was off on an adventure and while they would be happy to accompany him, he's much too young to go alone. Of course I had to volunteer, it would be unseemly otherwise." Luna's head bobbed and her ever present radish earrings swung erratically.

"I haven't the slightest fucking idea what she just said." Blaise huffed with a quiet sort of indignation, brushing the specks of gray lint from his black slacks in irritation.

"You're a terrible husband then. I believe Luna just told us Xander is off to retrieve Malfoy though I still haven't sussed out how exactly and she's going along for the ride because he shouldn't go alone." Harry smiled, quite pleased with himself until reality set in. "Wait, you can't just go off. We have to come with you; we're trained for this and…" Harry grasped desperately at the proverbial straws, practically pleading with a wispy witch and a toddler.

"Mum!" Xander shouted, his free hand held up so as to stop his mother from approaching him. "Lull loo!" He smiled and waved before he began tugging on Luna's kaleidoscope skirt.

"Just a minute love. Now Blaise, we'll be fine. I'll send a Patronus…"

"I go now!" Xander interrupted and with a barely perceptible flourish…they were gone.


	26. Pieces of the Past

**Author's Note: First. I realise it has been an extraordinarily long period of time since I've posted. I was struck with the *worst* writer's block on this particular story...but! I think I've worked it all out. So, there's that.**

**I didn't spend a ridiculous amount of time editing and I'm trying my best to tie up a few lingering loose ends, so please bear with me.**

**I expect there will be another chapter and then perhaps the epilogue. **

**As always - thanx for reading *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 26 – Pieces of the Past

* * *

"I remember the first time my mother told me she didn't love me." Hermione Granger whispered in the silence surrounding them.

Luna Zabini dragged Hermione to the overstuffed green sofa across from the crackling fire. The other women were scattered around the cozy yet anxiety ridden sitting room, nervously sipping various glasses of spirits.

"Do you think they're alright?" Hannah Nott whispered to Padma, but it sounded like the shout of a banshee in the uneasy silence.

"Of course they're not alright you bloody bint! They've gone off halfcocked like the imbecile men they are to battle with a mental bitch without the slightest hint of a plan. We'll be lucky if we're not all widows by the end of the…"

The sound of the slap made Hermione cringe and she curled around her protruding abdomen, with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Pansy Longbottom reeled from the force behind the strike, her brightly painted fingernails stroking the hand shaped mark on her cheek. She hadn't counted on Millicent Weasley. Pansy was used to Millicent being at her beck and call, bending to her every whim yet that was not the witch standing before her. This witch was riddled with rage and if Pansy wasn't mistaken, there was concern in her dull eyes.

"Pansy, sit down, shut up, and pretend for a moment the entire world doesn't revolve around you. I know its difficult, but do try." Millie snarled and Pansy nodded quickly, immediately sinking into the nearest armchair without another word.

"I can't stay long. I shouldn't have left as it is, but the boys were so rattled, I didn't have much choice. Xander's all right, well as right as he can be under the circumstances. I Disillusioned him before I flitted back here and it's safe to assume Harry and Nick have arrived. It was all very civil really; Cho even gave me a wave before I Disapparated." Luna smoothed Hermione's golden curls, bringing the older witch's head to her shoulder.

"Did you see Ron?" Millie covered her mouth the moment the words escaped and it was obvious she was overcome with regret. "I'm sorry Hermione..."

"It's nothing. It is quite a valid question." Luna rubbed small circles on Hermione's back. She glanced over her shoulder toward the hulking Millicent Weasley and gave the slightest, almost imperceptible nod.

Even Pansy had to admit it was strange to see Millie so affected. The tall, broad shouldered witch almost became small as the relief flowed through her. Her knees crumpled slightly and while Luna wished to give aid, she wasn't going to leave Hermione's side. It was Daphne who scurried across the plush carpeting and flung Millie's arm over her shoulder to lead her toward another chair.

"I didn't know she could be nice." Hermione mused with vacant eyes and the remnants of tears on her splotchy cheeks.

"It's a surprise to all of us Granger." Pansy sniffed with the slightest trace of disdain, which was conveniently ignored.

"It's Malfoy you self-serving bitch now kindly keep your insulting comments to yourself or I'll set you out of the Manor myself." Hermione's voice broke during the simple act of speaking her own last name, but her point was made.

"Hermione, you were telling me about your mother. Why would you think of such a thing now? I'd think you'd be brainstorming the various ways we could storm the proverbial castle and make a rescue." Luna easily drew Hermione's attention and even though Hermione wished for nothing more than to tear the blasted radish earrings from Luna's ears she didn't.

"I needed to focus on something that's not going to tear me apart inside. I can't think of Malfoy, Xander or even of Harry. I can't. I won't…I just…he made me promise. You know I hate to make promises when I'm intent on breaking them, but…but…"

"You're pregnant." Padma Patil Weasley waddled into the room, obviously exhausted as the sweat glistened on her furrowed brow.

Pansy quite thought Padma looked like a Muggle circus tent in her hideously striped muumuu, yet she kept the thought to herself by literally biting her tongue. She watched Padma carefully pad toward the chaise in the corner and settle herself upon it with a slight groan of malcontent. For the first time in her life, Pansy felt like an outsider.

While she and Neville got along, it wasn't the same intense relationship she'd witnessed between Granger and Malfoy or even between George and Padma. She knew George and Padma had some sort of secret relationship before they were ever assigned their Ministry approved mates therefore it irked her less than Granger and Draco. They built their relationship from nothing and they were miles ahead of everyone else.

"It's not a contest Pansy." Millie sighed with the slightest sniffle and Pansy realised she had spoken aloud.

"I know, I was just…well I was feeling sorry for myself alright then? Are you all bloody happy now? I'm fucking jealous and I can't do shite about it and I'm stuck with Neville Longbottom who is absolutely lovely but he doesn't love me."

"You'll survive Pansy, after all I remember the first time my mother told me she didn't love me and here I am." Hermione allowed her head to slide down Luna's chest until it rested in her lap. She propped her feet onto the sofa and stared into the flickering flames.

"I thought my parents were cold, but that's a new low Granger. Since we're all trying to keep our minds off things and our husbands have bloody warded us in this Merlin forsaken Manor like chattel, you might as well tell us." Pansy tossed her feet onto the arm of the chair and threw her arm over her eyes.

Pansy wasn't really interested in Hermione Granger's pathetic childhood story, but it wasn't as if there had loads of choices. Narcissa was locked in her wing shouting at house elves, demanding to be released from the wards. Lucius had gone off to the Ministry to give Shacklebolt a piece of his mind and only Merlin knew if he'd return home or to Azkaban. The rest of the boys had fucked right off, only after they had layered their wards over their wives and the Manor. The only way for them to escape was to work together and with the way Hermione Granger's mind was swirling the drain it would be a cold day in Muggle hell before that happened.

"I was small, barely walking really, but the memory is so bloody strong it used to break me. It doesn't hurt me anymore. I'd like to say I'm apathetic to it, but I'm not, yet it helps me stay numb and I need that right now.

'My mum had taken me to the park and it was so bloody cold, downright blistery. I was all bundled up in some ridiculous red corduroy coat with a matching hat in the vilest shade of red. It was snowing and I remember laughing as the snowflakes drifted over me. I kept sticking out my tongue trying to catch them and she was so angry. She kept smacking me on my bum telling me how dirty it was.

'The other mums were spinning in circles with their children and laughing. They were making snow angels and snowballs and I wanted that. Even at such a young age, I knew my family was different. My dad was never there and my mum wished I wasn't there.

'I tripped on a snowdrift and I remember crying. Sweet Merlin she was so furious. It was only a bit of snow and I cried because it was so cold when it seeped through my slacks. She grabbed me by the arms and shook me. She shook me so hard my hat flung into the snow. I vaguely remember the other mums shouting at her, but all I could see was the hatred in her big brown eyes.

'I never should have listened to him', she said. 'He said I'd grow to love you but he was wrong. I've never felt anything for you other than revulsion. I never wanted to be a mum and here I am stuck with you. You're not even very pretty are you?' She laughed then as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.

'Some strange woman with shiny blonde hair picked me up and just started carrying me down the street. I wondered if she was going to take me home with her. I quite liked that idea and I hoped she had hot chocolate. She seemed kind and anything was better than my mum.

'She didn't take me home of course; otherwise I suppose I would have had a very different life. She patted my back and wiped the tears from my eyes. She slowed her quick steps when she saw me staring at her and smiled.

'I always wanted a little girl.' She kept smoothing my hair down as if she expected it to stay, but I didn't mind. My mum never touched me unless she hadn't a choice in the matter. Eventually she brought me home, though how she knew where I lived was beyond me then and still is, unless she happened to be a witch." Hermione laughed, but it was so bitter the girls remained silent.

"D-do you think your mum ever loved you?" Millie's voice was timid and she jumped when a log crackled in the fireplace.

"I don't think she's ever been capable, Millie. She has a Muggle sort of illness; at least I think it's a Muggle illness. I've never come across a wizard with such an affliction of the mind. She spent most of her life trying to find her way out of it. Sometimes she wished to take me with her, but my dad managed to keep her at bay. She was institutionalized a few times, but my dad believed she was better with him. I spent most of my time at Hogwarts or with the Weasleys by then and I simply didn't care anymore." Hermione closed her eyes and Luna was completely unsurprised to see she had fallen asleep.

"If I wasn't such a bitch, I'd probably be crying." Pansy wiped her cheeks furiously, refusing to believe she was shedding tears because of Hermione's past.

Pansy didn't hate the Muggle-born witch; in fact, she quite respected her. It was the tension of the entire situation that was putting her on edge.

"How many wizards does it take to capture one psychotic serial killer?" Daphne murmured while awkwardly patting Millicent's back.

"None, just one incredible witch." Luna eased Hermione's head onto the sofa and stood. "Pansy, Daphne, keep an eye on Padma. Her contractions are fairly far apart, but one never knows when a child is going to make their appearance."

"Contractions? Wait, are you leaving? Are you mad? What the hell am I supposed to do, sit here and twiddle my thumbs until the lot of you return?" Millicent Weasley shoved Daphne away and glowered at the strange Healer.

"Why Millie, I'd never leave you out. I think it would be best if you to fetch Narcissa. I'm sure she's about here somewhere, no doubt sedated. She'll be an asset once Padma's labour truly begins and Hermione is going to be quite distraught when she awakes. It'll be good for you to keep busy." Millie nodded slowly, knowing Luna was correct in her assumptions. She would drive herself absolutely mad if she were to simply sit and watch the hands on the clock.

"No need to fetch me dear. It seems the Calming Drought Lucius gave me wasn't nearly as strong as he had hoped or perhaps I didn't quite drink it all. No matter." Narcissa strode into the room with confidence, which aided in releasing the tension so prevalent among them.

Luna pulled a small flask from the pocket of her patchwork quilt skirt and it looked as though she were shaking a few hairs into it. She swirled the concoction with a practiced eye while avoiding the curious gaze of the women surrounding her. She hastily shoved the flask back into her pocket and made her way toward the floo.

"I know what you're doing." Hermione whispered while slowly sitting up. "Do be careful."

Luna blinked, surprised by Hermione's reaction. She quite expected a length tongue-lashing. She was prepared to Silence the witch in order to make her escape, instead she smiled, pleased she wasn't forced to resort to such measures.

"It's the only way really. She's incapable of listening to reason. She's incapable of being rational. If there's a hope or even a prayer of getting them all out alive, this is what must be done." Luna crossed the room quickly and gave Hermione a quick hug. "I'll be back."

She practically skipped from the room to the sound of Hermione's tinkling laughter.

* * *

"You fucking mental bitch." Draco Malfoy spat while he allowed himself to be shoved into an empty cell.

He took in his surroundings with flitting grey eyes, memorizing every detail on the off chance he could manage to escape. Draco swallowed with a quick blink when he was forced to step around the body of Paris Granger. Vaguely he wondered if the man would prefer Wendell Wilkins on his headstone before Chang smashed him into the bars of the cell.

"You're not a very appreciative guest now are you? Wendell wasn't either. He didn't appreciate the family he had. He thought it best to discard them. I had half a mind to let him live, but I couldn't after his little confession. He had everything I ever wanted and he tossed it away. Can you imagine?" Cho Chang smiled sweetly as she locked the cell door behind her latest acquisition.

She ignored her other guests in favour of a shower. She was filthy, exhausted and utterly infuriated. Cho expected Harry Potter and an impressive gathering of Aurors to arrive within the hour, but she did prefer to be presentable. She levitated Wendell, Paris, whatever he was calling himself out the front door and deposited him on the welcome mat. Perhaps that would make the rescue party second-guess themselves long enough for her to get away.

"Malfoy! You're supposed to be an Auror! How the fuck did you let this bint snatch you?" Ron Weasley shoved angrily away from the wall with a wince.

He wasn't about to confess to the ferret that he had runes carved into his skin. He couldn't help but to be a bit grateful Hermione's dad had angered Cho as much as he had. Ron knew he would be dead if it weren't for that man. It saddened him to think of the man, yet at the same time to feel such relief.

"There was never a choice in the matter, Weasel. Would you rather see Hermione here? No, I didn't think so. Where's Stori?" Draco noticed the Weasel's stiff movements and deduced he had been carved, but it was the absence of Harry Potter's wife that disturbed him the most.

"Chang took her out to the other room. I heard her screaming and there was a bit of crying but then Chang left. I haven't heard anything since. Was she really fixed to snatch Hermione?" Draco took in Ron Weasley's red-rimmed eyes and the way his plaid shirt hung from his body with narrowed eyes.

How the poor bloke managed to be hungover while a prisoner in deplorable conditions was beyond him. Draco supposed it wasn't completely far-fetched for Chang to be plying Weasley with alcohol to make him more agreeable. It seemed the crazy bint was set to do anything for her cause.

"She threatened my son Weasley so yeah, she's not above taking Hermione." Draco sat on the edge of the cot, his leg bouncing with angst.

"Chang's been slipping vodka in my water. You'll notice mine is the only cell without a sink. She did that on purpose. I-uh…I didn't tell her anything, not that I know much but…"

"Weasley," Draco rubbed his eyes and grit his teeth, "it's not your fault. Shacklebolt is sending the first team at first light so at least there's that."

"I didn't mean to hurt her." Ron whispered and lay on his side on his narrow cot while facing the wall. He couldn't lie on his back no matter how much he would like. Cho Chang had done a number to his freckled flesh and he wondered what the runes decorating his skin said.

"I don't wish to speak of this Weasley." Draco sighed, listening to the sound of water trickle down the pipes from Chang's shower.

"I know, but she's off her bloody rocker. Just in case I don't make it out of here alive, I want you to know I didn't mean to hurt her. I know I've said it before and we've had an entire unpleasant conversation, but I…"

"Why did you? I mean fuck, we've got nothing but time, might as well tell me." Draco smirked at the Weasel's back and tented his fingers while his elbows rested on his knees.

"It'd be easy to blame it all on the drink but I've done that plenty. Even when you cornered me I still couldn't take responsibility. She made me feel stupid. She's got all these aspirations and she's done quite well for herself and I'm just…" Ron sighed and flipped over in order to look at the bloody ferret. "Hermione Granger has been applauded for her intellect since first year and I've struggled with everything. I'm the youngest son and everything that I've done has already been done before. I realise how incredibly stupid that sounds now, but I don't really have a good reason. I was mean because it made me feel better about myself. I never touched her unless I had too much to drink and I never did anything more than shove her, but I shouldn't have even done that. It was easy to justify it when I was drinking but now well; it's just pathetic isn't it? I was always the throw away member of the Golden bloody Trio. Harry had the courage and Hermione had the knowledge and I was just the tagalong and it made me feel like a pile of shite honestly."

Draco Malfoy kept his grey eyes steady on Ron Weasley while reining in his temper. He wanted to shout at the bloke and tell him he was being ridiculous. He would have quite liked to hex the wizard as well but that wouldn't change much. Instead, he sighed and nodded slowly.

"You tore her down to make you feel better about yourself. She'll forgive you, eventually but only if you clean up your act Weasley. I don't think you truly knew the meaning of love when you had her but someday maybe you'll discover it and then you'll apologise from the heart." Draco observed Ron contemplating his words with a frown and knew he had surprised him. Hell, he surprised himself and he supposed Hermione had changed him for the better.

"Da!" Xander Malfoy ran across the floor with stomping feet until his tiny fists were clenching the bars.

Draco blinked his eyes, sure he was seeing an apparition of some sort until the chubby little arm reached through the bars and tugged on his shirt. He sunk to his knees and thrust his arms through the bars to encircle the small child, wondering how on earth the tot had managed to travel to their location.

"Draco, Ron, I can't stay long. I've got to head back to the Ministry to enact the trace. I'm sure if you rile up Xander here enough he'll set off the alarms at the Ministry since he's not at his home. They seem to frown upon children performing magic outside the comfort of their own homes which is quite silly when you think of it, I mean…"

"Lovegood, how the fuck…"

"Da no, fuck bad." Xander reprimanded his dad with very serious eyes and a pout of his lips, which would have been absolutely adorable under different circumstances.

"He's incredibly gifted Malfoy and decided he didn't wish to remain at the Manor without his dad. I'll be back soon; I swear it. I'm going to Disillusion him of course. I wouldn't want Chang to think him fair game. Astoria is asleep in the other room. She has a series of runes carved into her back, but she's alive. Ron, Millie is quite worried for you." Luna waved her wand and Xander disappeared, though Draco could still feel the tiny body in his arms and a sticky hand patting his cheek.

"You!" Cho Chang sauntered down the stairs of her husband's cabin in much better spirits until she spied Luna Lovegood Zabini chatting amicably with her prisoners.

"It's alright Cho, I haven't freed them as you can see. I'll just be off now." Luna smiled brightly and waved.

Cho quirked her head to the side, stunned by the unique witch's statement and slowly lifted her hand with a small wave. Luna raised her wand and with a crack, Disapparated.

"She is the oddest witch I've ever bloody known." Cho mumbled to herself while she wandered into the front room.

She gazed upon a slumbering Astoria Potter with a small smile. She fingered the runes, quite satisfied with their placement and healing before she set the kettle on. She knew she didn't really need Draco Malfoy _and _Ron Weasley but trying to decide between the two was quite hellish for her. Cho supposed she should have let Astoria be, but her anger had gotten the best of her.

Adrian Pucey hadn't been forthcoming when it came to informing her of their locations. He needed a bit of incentive and as much as it disgusted her, Cho Chang was not above using her womanly wiles to get exactly what she needed. Of course, the bastard had rutted against her like a randy teen, but she hadn't expected anything less. She swallowed hard trying to block the memories but they were determined to keep themselves in the forefront of her mind. She gripped the edge of the counter, breathing deeply through her nose and almost wished the Aurors would come.

"_You know Chang, you're a bit uppity for a murderer." Adrian Pucey backed her slowly into the corner, his hulking form dwarfing her. "You're constantly coming to me for information, but what am I getting in return?" He gripped the front of her robes in his fist and twisted slightly._

"_What do you want then? More galleons? Haven't I given you enough?" Cho rolled her eyes, pretending he wasn't the least bit intimidating._

"_You can start by showing me your tits." Adrian leered and wiggled his eyebrows. "That Beauxbaton's witch I married isn't the least bit interesting." _

"_Really Pucey, how is that my problem? What makes you think I'd show you anything at all?" Adrian stepped closer, thrusting forward with his hips and using his free hand he stroked her hip with a familiarity that made her uncomfortable._

"_I could always tell Potter you're the bint whose been carving up his friends…"_

_Cho swallowed hard, realizing she really had little choice in the matter. While they were in the bowels of the Ministry, she had Silenced the office and Adrian had added his own wards to the dark room nestled in the Archives. She regretted meeting him but it seemed it was too late for such thoughts. She wanted the information and considering all the horrid things she had already done, what was one more?_

"_Do whatever it is you need to do then, but make it quick. We have work to do."_

_She remained still and allowed Adrian to unbutton the white blouse she wore beneath her robes. He took his time, enjoying the way she'd flinch when his knuckles touched her skin. He spread her blouse slowly and frowned at the size of her breasts. He shrugged and ripped her bra open, studying her small breasts with their tiny yet perky nipples._

"_They're not very impressive are they? No wonder you didn't put up more of a fuss. Is your arse any better? Turn around then." Adrian spun her around, forcing her face into the corner and lifted her skirt. "Hmmm now this is much better." He stroked her covered arse cheeks with a strange sort of reverence before he ripped her knickers down her thighs._

"_You said you just wanted to look." Cho panted, uncomfortable with the entire situation._

"_As if a simple look was going to be enough for what you want from me. You want me to give you protected information and I'm going to need a little incentive." Adrian reached between her legs, lingering on her bum before stroking her sex with a groan._

"_I've given you plenty of galleons, there isn't a need for you to do this when it's obvious I don't want to." Cho grit her teeth when he kicked her legs apart, feeling the bile in her throat when her pushed her knickers aside._

"_Well, I'm sure Marietta, Michael, Oliver and Krum didn't wish to die, but you didn't really give them a choice in the matter did you? I did overhear Potter talking about a deliciously sexy blonde. Happen to have any Polyjuice on you? I'd love to see her." Adrian dipped a long finger into her juices and purred against her throat._

"_Just see her? You're not going to shag her?" Cho resisted the urge to squirm, which only lasted a nanosecond before Adrian was pulling her hair hard, forcing her head back._

"_I'll do whatever the fuck I want with her if you want that information, but I think first I'd like to have you just the way you are." Cho shook her head quickly with wide eyes, but he didn't pay any mind._

_Adrian yanked her toward one of the large desks, impatiently discarding her blouse and torn bra. He murmured a spell and Cho was stuck to the table. Her legs swung and he braced them open._

"_You fucked Wood and Krum as well I'm guessing. I heard a bit of a rumour that you managed to dose the Weasley girl as well. My, my, my do you manage to get around. It's only fair that I have a bit of a taste don't you think?" Adrian stood between her legs, enjoying the way she attempted to squirm._

_He was a bit of a sadistic bastard, taking pleasure in making his wife beg for him to stop. He never did, but it didn't stop her from pleading with the delicious sheen of tears in her clear blue eyes. His cock twitched at the thought of doing the same to Chang and he pushed her back._

"_You're being well compensated, Pucey, it's completely different."_

"_Did you ever come?" Adrian flicked his wand and enlarged her breasts, deciding he could do without seeing the busty blonde. His wife was a blonde and the last thing he wanted to imagine was her._

_Cho Chang glanced down at her ridiculously large breasts and rolled her almond eyes. The minute he had forced her onto her back she was trapped, but she thought this was a bit far. She had expected him to ogle a bit and perhaps even molest her, but the darkening of his eyes and the way he licked his lips told her he had every intention of shagging her senseless. Cho sighed and hoped he would be quick._

"_If you don't answer me, I'll pour a Lust Potion down your throat." Adrian snarled while reaching out and twisting one of her nipples._

"_No! I-I faked it when I was me. As the blonde, I didn't have too." She could feel her body responding to his rough hands while they roved her body and stiffened. She wasn't prepared for such a thing. Her body hadn't wanted another man since John and she hadn't allowed herself a bit of release._

"_The hell you say." Adrian licked his lips and slowly shimmied her knickers down her knees. _

_Adrian Pucey dropped to his knees and buried his face between her thighs. Cho started when his fingers joined his furious tongue. He tossed her legs over his shoulders and dug his fingers into the supple flesh of her arse grunting with encouragement when she began to moan._

"_That's it you dirty girl." He finger fucked her while his tongue slid between her folds, quickly making her body respond in a way she wasn't expecting. He pinched the tiny bundle of nerves with a practiced flair and quickly brought her to orgasm. _

_She waited for him to climb on top of her but he didn't. He was torturing her. Adrian knew she would absolutely despise the fact she was had come by him and he was determined to watch her do it over and over again._

_Using his cock, he teased her opening while suckling her breasts, until she was writhing. He watched her clamp her lips closed and knew she was refusing to beg him for anything. He bumped her clit and smiled when she began to quiver. He leaned down and sucked on her clit hard, working her from the inside with his fingers until she tumbled over the edge once more._

"_How many times do you think I could make you come Chang?" Adrian whispered, while continuing to finger her ever so slowly._

Cho didn't remember how many times her body betrayed her and that was the real reason she had killed Adrian Pucey. He had turned her body against her. He had blackmailed her into betraying herself. He had enjoyed it when he shoved his cock into her. He had loved it when the tears streamed from her eyes, simply from his sheer size.

She shook her head and quickly poured a glass of water. She choked it down and willed the memory to dissipate. Cho spun toward Astoria and had half a mind to cover the witch, but she did so enjoy the view. She laughed to herself, wondering how Astoria would feel if she woke and saw herself spread across a table, naked as the day she was born.

She had a deliciously wicked thought of plying Astoria Potter with a Lust Potion, but Cho rather decided she didn't wish to be distracted. She knew it was only a matter of moments before a band Aurors arrive and while she knew she had a good run, part of her was content to know the end was near.

Cho reveled in the idea of being with John and Henry once more. Her soul ached for them and she hoped they would forgive her transgressions. Everything she had done, she had done for them. Surely, they would understand once she explained it to them.

* * *

"What the fuck just happened?"

"You call yourself an Auror. Pathetic." Lucius Malfoy swept past the bumbling boy in order to find his son.

Lucius was sure Kingsley Shacklebolt was wandering around the Ministry wondering what had happened when Lucius Confunded him. He was not about to be left behind when his son's life hung in the balance. He'd be damned if he let anyone interfere. He was quite confident he'd be forced to pay a hefty fine for his actions, but really the Wizengamot couldn't blame him for his familial devotion.

He smiled as he listened to the quiet clip of Harry Potter's shoes as he followed Lucius down the corridor. The boy really didn't have a choice in the matter. If it hadn't been for Lucius Malfoy and Luna Zabini, they'd still be sitting around the Ministry plotting their attack. It had been ridiculously easy to incapacitate the infuriating scar headed boy once Luna had provided Chang's location.

Of course Cho Chang hadn't realised her cabin in the wood had been invaded and it was the way Lucius preferred such things. He had always sought the upper hand when it came to battles, whether physical or mental and this was no different. At one time he _had_ been part of the Noseless Wonder's Inner Circle, it simply goes to reason Lucius Malfoy had numerous ways to enter domiciles unnoticed.

"Where's Harry? I'd rather stay in here than let a bunch of bloody Death Eaters free me. I bet you're just waiting to string me up aren't you? You can't be trusted, the lot of you!" Lucius Malfoy rolled his eyes and flicked his wand at the furious red-haired Weasley.

"Thank Merlin for that, bloody wanker was getting on my nerves." Theo mumbled while inspecting the bars, the construction of the cells and attempting to break through the numerous, complicated wards.

"You do have a wand Mr. Nott."

"Yes thank you for that astute observation Mr. Malfoy, however I've been a bit preoccupied attempting to free your son." Theo didn't bother to turn around to address the overbearing wizard. He was used to such antics.

"Have you seen Astoria?" Draco inquired softly. He kept his grey eyes carefully trained on the ground. He knew it would be impossible to break through the wards without Chang, but it was nice to have company that wasn't Weasley.

"A quick glance indicated while she has been marred by the insufferable witch, she is breathing. However I must note the poor girl is absolutely nude, well done Mr. Potter." Lucius managed a small smirk upon spying Harry's outrage. "Now, now, do keep it down. We do not wish to alert Ms. Chang to our presence."

Harry gripped his wand so tightly; Nick cringed thinking the bit of wood would crack under the strain. While Nick was a bit wary of Lucius, he didn't detest the wizard the way Harry obviously did. He was quick to defer to anyone who was more knowledgeable than he, but Harry was always quick to forge ahead. Vaguely Nick Moretti wondered if Harry's spontaneity was part of the reason he'd lost his nerve.

Nick respected Harry, at least as his partner and partly due to his war efforts, but personally, he felt the Boy Who Lived was afraid to die. He supposed such things happened after fighting for your life for so long and of course having something to lose. He made a note to mention the Hogwarts posting for a new Potions professor. Perhaps that would be a better fit for the man.

"Lucius, you may have Confunded the Minister but I'm still in complete control of my faculties and I don't appreciate vulgar comments about my wife." Harry hissed and for a moment,

Lucius was reminded of Parseltongue.

"Perhaps you should focus on apprehending a murderous witch rather than focusing on the fact I've ogled your wife's derriere." Nick quickly stepped between the two wizards when Harry thrust his wand forward.

"Harry as much as you doan wanna admit it, Lucius has a point. We got Nott workin the wards, which is great if he gets it done. I sent that Neville guy back to the Manor. He was twitchy and we can't have dat hea."

"Da out?" The tiny voice startled the wizards while they spun in circles searching for the child in question.

Alexander Draco Malfoy was having the time of his life. He weaved between the wizard's legs tugging on their slacks and laughing while they gasped and grasped nothing but air. He quickly tired of his game as he only wished to take his Dad and go home. He shook his head violently, pushing his dark hair off his forehead and closed his eyes tight. His tiny hands squeezed into fists and with a great angry puff of air, he was beside his new Dad with a grand smile.

"He really is quite extraordinary." Lucius mused while gazing upon his new grandson perked on Draco's knee.

"Bloody hell. Has he been here the whole time?" Ron Weasley hissed, his jaw gaping open in wonderment.

"Dupit." Xander pointed at Ron with narrowed eyes, causing the tall gangly wizard to back away from the child. "Da? Go now?" Xander bounced impatiently on Draco's knee, grasping the wizard's face with stinky hands.

"No, we can't leave yet. There's a naughty witch and uhm, Potter needs to take her away and punish her before we can go home." Draco nodded quickly, pleased with his himself while gracing Harry with a sardonic smile.

"Malfoy!" Harry hissed, constantly glancing over his shoulder, desperate for the slightest indication his wife was alive. "I can't just go barreling in there. She's got Stori."

Harry gripped his dark unruly hair tightly in a fist, ignoring a slinking George Weasley whispering furiously to Nick Moretti. He gasped in alarm, ducking down when Cho Chang came into view. Lucius quickly Disillusioned himself and Theo Nott, leaving Harry Potter to his own devices and stepped into the shadows.

Without thinking for another moment, Harry raced down the corridor, brandishing his wand. He didn't worry about the repercussions of his spontaneous actions. Harry figured he had wasted enough time carefully formulating each careful move and it didn't bring him any closer to capturing the mad witch, nor to rescuing his wife.

"Stupefy!" His Stunning Spell went horribly awry, shattering a small collection of nursery mementoes.

Cho Chang spun on her heel, dark hair swinging, eyes flashing violently and pointed her wand not at Harry, but at the unconscious Astoria Potter.


	27. The Remnants

**AN: This is it, the last chapter. Perhaps there will be an Epilogue...perhaps not. I haven't really decided as of yet.  
****I also can't promise the editing is up to par but I've looked over it so often my eyes have crossed. It is what it is.  
As always...thanx for reading and enjoy *kisses***

* * *

Chapter 27 – The Remnants

* * *

Neville Longbottom was weaved through the trees absently gripping his wand while he made the long trek to Malfoy Manor. He didn't understand why the wards had been ridiculously strengthened. It would have made his life incredibly easier if he had simply been able to Apparate directly to the front door. Of course, nothing had been easy about his day thus far and Neville huffed, glaring at the estate home in the distance.

He had been cornered in an alcove of Malfoy Manor, by a sniffling Hannah, while on his way to meet with the First Team. She clumsily grabbed his hands and begged forgiveness. It had taken Neville more than a moment to realise she had strong feelings for her Ministry assigned husband and who was he to judge? It wasn't as if he was being particularly standoffish with his wife and why should he?

Sure, Neville and Hannah had been engaged, but he'd respected her decision to wait and look where it got them? Fact of the matter was he was quite fond of Pansy. She was the polar opposite of Hannah and perhaps that is what made them work.

The poor witch was absolutely starved for affection and Hannah had never been one to be overly affectionate. Neville decided he quite liked the attention. He couldn't say he was in love with her or anything, but he definitely cared for her and there was nothing wrong with it.

Neville had allowed Hannah to blubber a bit before putting a quick stop to it and as he trudged up the long hill, he was glad to be done with it. Everything that had first endeared him to her, he now found quite irritating. He felt a slight twinge of guilt for even considering the passing emotion and sighed.

"Finally." Neville muttered and pushed open the large oak doors of Malfoy Manor.

He stepped into the foyer, listening for the sounds of the women and came up empty. He carefully crept down the long corridor and heard the slamming of doors. Neville held his wand in front of his body and turned the corner, his mouth dropping open in horror.

Padma Weasley was reclined upon a chaise with beads of sweat decorating her brow and Millicent Weasley clutching her hand. She moaned, her eyes closing and Neville choked on the particles in the air, alerting them to his presence. He took a step forward, slightly curious and was immediately shoved back by none other than Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mr. Longbottom, delightful to see you've survived, however now is not the time to regale the ladies with tales of your heroism. I'm sure you'll be much more comfortable in the library with a liberal drought of firewhiskey." Narcissa snapped her fingers and one of her many house elves dragged Neville away as she succinctly closed the door.

"I didn't get to say a bloody word…" Neville shook his head, dutifully following the elf, only to run smack into his wife.

"Dammit Millie! I bloody well told you I was simply going to the loo!" Pansy Longbottom shouted the moment her bum landed on the hard tile.

She was so busy brushing down her skirts and tucking her hair back into its coif, she didn't see the masculine hand being offered until it was waving in her face. Pansy grasped the hand, looking up as she did so and her torrent of profanities died in her throat.

"N-Neville…you're here. What's happened? Are you alright? Are they all back? I haven't heard anything at all. Padma's well on her way to birthing the next Weasley and…" Neville chuckled, easily pulling his wife to her feet.

He was vaguely aware of her nervous babbling and he decided he didn't mind it, not one bit. Instead of answering her, Neville dipped his head and kissed his wife in such a way, there was no mistaking his affections.

Hermione Malfoy eased away from the preoccupied couple, slipping down another corridor before making her way back toward the sitting room. She knew Draco hadn't returned and her heart pounded furiously with worry. She hadn't the slightest inclinations to sit beside Padma during her labours but she knew there wasn't much choice in the matter. She dutifully pushed open the door, cringing upon the onslaught of Padma's groans.

"Hermione dear, come sit with me for a spell. I'm sure Millie and Daphne can tend to Ms. Weasley." Narcissa Malfoy smiled softly and Hermione was immediately drawn to her, crossing the large room swiftly. "I've cast a Charm over the settee, I simply could not abide her ridiculous caterwauling any further."

"Thank Merlin." Hermione sighed, immediately settling beside Narcissa and smoothing her pale blue skirts.

"I'm quite pleased you've deigned to wear the clothing I've provided." Hermione frowned for a moment, silently questioning the older witch. "Ah I see my son has neglected to inform you the particular dress you're wearing was mine when I carried him. I thought perhaps you'd enjoy something loose fitting as it is quite difficult to find appropriate clothing when expecting. Someone should really do something about that."

"It really is quite lovely." Narcissa covered Hermione's hand with her own, patting it lightly.

She leaned forward and poured them cups of steaming tea, as the perfect pureblood wife. Hermione knew she could never perfect the art and wondered if it bothered Draco. She couldn't help but to wonder if he missed the pureblood society galas and the house filled with prissy witches discussing the latest gossip.

"You worry your lip when you're nervous. You always have. It used to drive my son absolutely mad." Narcissa tittered lightly, placing a wedge of lemon on her saucer.

"It still does, I'm sure." Hermione unconsciously stroked her distended abdomen, while staring into the flickering firelight.

"When Draco was just a tot, I used to sneak away from the Manor. Oftentimes I would bring him with me, informing Lucius some errand or another was a moral imperative. He'd roll his eyes of course, but he never questioned me and I couldn't help but wonder if he knew the truth." Narcissa stirred her tea slowly, avoiding Hermione's probing gaze.

"What truth is that then?" Hermione was momentarily distracted by the hustle and bustle of witches behind them, but Narcissa quickly drew her back.

"My sister might have been burned off the family tree, but she's still my sister. I couldn't be so quick to pretend she never existed. We would meet, sporadically of course in a Muggle area, filled with greenery. Andromeda continuously referred to it as a playground but it didn't make a bit of sense to me then." Hermione was feeling uncomfortable with the intimacy of the moment and swallowed hard.

"Shouldn't we…aid Padma? It looks as though…"

"It was me. I overheard you before, speaking of your horrid mother. The day in the snow and your mother was…Merlin she was an abrasive woman. Andromeda kept insisting we should leave her to it as we weren't to meddle in Muggle affairs, but I couldn't leave you there. It didn't matter if you were Magic or Muggle, no child deserves to be berated for simply existing. It was easy to snatch you up in my arms and I always swore I could feel the magic oozing from you, but Andromeda said I was being ridiculous. You clung to me so tightly…I never wanted to release you, but I wouldn't have been able to explain you to my family."

"Do you…do you ever wonder what would have happened if you had kept me?" Hermione brushed the tears from the corner of her eyes with trembling fingertips while worrying her bottom lip.

"I spent many a year wondering what ever had happened to you. Andromeda never brought me back to that particular Muggle area and I can't help but suspect it was because of you. I wouldn't have been able to resist if I had laid eyes on you again. I wanted more children desperately but it wasn't in our stars." Narcissa carefully turned toward the witch her son adored and wiped a tear from her cheek.

"Did you know it was me when you saw me again? I mean…" Hermione hiccupped, trying to balance her raging emotions.

"I suspected, I couldn't be certain. I like to think, you still would have married my son, and we'd be exactly where we are, without all the mayhem of course." Hermione choked on a sob and buried her face in her hands.

Narcissa blinked her pale lashes for a moment and sighed. It had always been difficult for her to express herself in a physical nature, yet this situation demanded more. Gently, she pulled the witch into her rigid arms, her hands naturally smoothing the wrinkles on Hermione's back. Narcissa rocked her lightly, deciding she quite liked this maternal moment, even if her daughter-in-law was currently hormonally challenged.

"Well this is an interesting turn of events." Draco Malfoy smirked as he glanced down upon his wife and mother in their strange embrace.

* * *

"You don't happen to have a sense of humour, do you? I've definitely got to do something about that. I wonder if I could formulate a sucker, which forces the wizard to tell terrible jokes. I don't imagine that taking the place of a sense of humour but it could be highly amusing." George Weasley eyed the younger Slytherin with curious eyes.

He hadn't spent an exorbitant amount of time with Theo Nott, but it was obvious the wizard was wound a bit tight. George casually leaned upon the stonewall, observing Theo's level of concentration with wide eyes. He supposed the wizard was particularly adept at his job, otherwise he would have been left behind with the rest of the useless Junior Aurors.

"You're right. I can't bloody believe it." Theo Nott grumbled just loud enough for George to hear the muttered words.

"Yes, I'm brilliant. Can we blast in the wall now? I suspect Harry Potter has already bounded in, wand blazing and made a mess of things. He's quite spontaneous and without Hermione here to rein him in, I can't imagine this ending well." George wiggled his ginger eyebrows, anxious to get in on all the fun.

"Potter's just lost a bit of his nerve. I've heard it happens after facing dire circumstances. Sweet Salazar Weasley, you've got me defending Potter. I'll never feel clean again." A ghost of a smile passed Theo's thin lips before he brandished his wand.

"Was that a…did you…make a joke? Quick, call the Aurors. I'm having chest pains."

"Bloody hell, go warn Malfoy and the other Weasley. I'd suggest a lovely Shield Charm should protect them from the debris. I'm trusting you can handle the responsibility." Theo ignored the wizard grasping his chest to inspect the stones of the cabin.

George finally shrugged and snuck back into the cabin. He avoided the main living space as it seemed there was quite the shouting match taking place between Harry Potter and Cho Chang. He shook his head, knowing in his bones Harry had simply rushed ahead and all their plans were completely tits up.

"Oi," George's harsh whisper startled the wizards and he resisted the urge to chuckle at their surprise. "Old Malfoy, toss up a Shield Charm over the other Malfoy yeah? Nott's about ready to break through."

"What about me?" Ron Weasley nervously eyed the toddler while the desperation in his voice flooded the room.

"You're a big boy Ickle Ronnikins. You'll be fine." George winked, instinctively ducking as a particularly large crash emanated from the front room.

"I'm your brother, you've got to protect me." Ron was on the verge of tears and if it wasn't so pathetic, it would have been amusing.

"Yes, well I don't like you." George lazily replied, silently casting 'Protego' as he always did enjoy getting a rise out of his youngest brother.

Nick Moretti and Blaise Zabini were ignoring the Weasley banter in favour of observing Harry and Cho. From their positions, it looked as though Cho Chang was holding a quivering, barely conscious Astoria Potter hostage. Cho's hands were wound tightly in Astoria's blonde hair and Harry's wand twitched in his hand.

"You lot need to move your arses. It's getting dangerous out there. We've got to do something." Blaise hissed over his shoulder, feeling completely out of his element.

Cho Chang glimpsed a flash of dark hair and knew Harry Potter hadn't come alone. She snarled, digging her wand into Astoria's throat. She couldn't help but to revel in the fear in Harry Potter's eyes. She wanted him on his knees, begging for his wife's life in the moments before the witch took her last breath.

She growled when the debris of her husband's stone cabin crashed in the back room. Cho knew then, the Aurors were coming and calmed. She maneuvered closer to the front door, wishing to see the sky one last time, but she couldn't allow Harry to follow her. Cho took a chance and squeezed the back of Astoria's neck. The slight witch was bewildered by her predicament and remained silent through the pain.

"Confringo." Cho hissed, her dark eyes dancing in delight as the sofa burst into flames.

"Aguamenti!" Blaise Zabini leapt into the room, sweating profusely.

He quickly dove behind a curio cabinet, praying to whatever gods existing to bring him back to his quirky wife in one piece. Blaise wasn't made for confrontation or war, which is why he avoided the Second Wizarding War. All he wanted, quite honestly, was to sit in his back garden beside his wife and eat cake until he died. He had no desire to cast spells or wreck havoc and yet he couldn't stand idly by and watch more witches and wizards die. He had done that once and vowed to never again.

"Expulso!" Cho screeched, kicking open the front door to the cabin, her eyes never leaving the dark haired Italian wizard as the curio cabinet exploded into splinters raining down upon him.

Harry Potter wasn't a formidable opponent, not for her, not any longer. It was easy to ignore his existence as the wizard hadn't moved. His green eyes were locked on his wife's and it seemed he was frozen in terror.

Nick Moretti knocked Harry to the ground as a flash of red light hurtled through the air. The crack of knees on the ground caused him to wince and frankly, Nick wished nothing more than to shake Harry until his senses returned. He'd heard numerous stories concerning Harry Potter's heroism and downright guts when faced with the darkest wizard of all time. Nick fervently wished he'd known that particular wizard as it seemed the one on the floor beside him was a bit useless.

"Harry Potter, dat crazy bitch is leavin' wit your wife. If anythin' happens ta her, you ain't never gonna forgive yourself. For fuck's sake man, pretend she's Voldemort, cuz I hear ya dit int lay down an die for _him_." Nick slapped Harry's cheek, leaving a red mark on the wizard's cheek and hoped he hadn't gone too far.

"Can't imagine why you're bothering. Harry Potter has been a useless piece of shite from the day he was born. He couldn't even defeat Voldemort without, well everyone really. He's a fluke. He's not talented. He's not brilliant. He's reckless and his recklessness cost me everything!" Cho Chang shrieked, her voice finally breaking.

Harry struggled to his knees, blocking out the sounds of falling stone and shouts behind him. Slowly he stood, his gaze shifting from his wife's terrified wide eyes to the witch behind her. Harry stared into her soulless dark pools as Nick's words reverberated in his throbbing head. He resisted the urge to rub his scar as it had become habit more than anything.

"Get them out of here." Harry finally spat as a cacophony of angry wizards wafted toward them.

Nick hesitated for a moment, unsure if it was in his best interest to leave a questionable Harry with a psychotic Cho Chang until he remembered Xander. He didn't want the tot to witness the horrific acts he was sure were going to occur. Nick slipped around Harry, glancing over his broad shoulder one last time and nodded.

"Oh the great Harry Potter has finally grown himself some bollocks? How lovely. It would have been quite anticlimactic if you simply laid upon the ground when I killed you. I much prefer it if you fight back. I've always wondered how you managed to take down Voldemort, it's not as if you're particularly gifted now is it?" Cho threw her head back, her dark hair swinging and laughed maniacally.

"You're pathetic." Harry snarled, shaking the fog from his brain.

He knew he wasn't brilliant in the ways Hermione Granger was brilliant, but he also knew he was gifted. Sure, it didn't take much expertise to survive Voldemort the first time and he bloody well knew it. It was always the thoughts of his parents, which kept Harry going. He found comfort in their love, though he couldn't even pretend to remember them. It was the knowledge they had sacrificed themselves for him that fed Harry's passion.

Somewhere along the way, he had lost the will to fight. Harry couldn't help but wonder if his parents had ever felt the same, but quickly dismissed it. If they hadn't been willing to put everything on the line, he supposed they would still be alive and he would be dead. While Nick stirred the feelings Harry had kept tamped down, it was his wife and his son that renewed his vigor. He had never known true parental love and he would be dammed if his son knew the same heartbreak.

"Langlock." Harry growled, the slightest waft of satisfaction shivered through him and Harry could feel the tingle of his magic coursing through his veins.

There was a certain satisfaction in the outrage apparent in the psychotic witch. It was a little known spell, but Harry remembered his Potions book fondly. He silently thanked Severus Snape for the creation of the spell as he was finally free from listening to a nonsensical diatribe.

"Fucking hell she's silent. What'd you do Harry?" Ron Weasley stumbled from the back room, his red hair askew, and his clothing filthy and rumpled.

"George, get Ron out of here. He's distracting and I've got a job to do." The low timbre of Harry's voice set the wizards into action.

George Weasley breathed a sigh of relief, spying glimpses of the angry child determined to rescue the Wizarding World. While Cho Chang wasn't of the same caliber as Voldemort, she was threatening their livelihood and it seemed Harry wasn't willing to succumb to his fears any longer. George nodded quickly, losing his playful air and snatched his unkempt brother's arm.

He dragged a slightly struggling Ron through the gaping hole in his former cell and thrust him into the outdoors. Ron squinted from the glare of the sun and couldn't help but to chance a quick glance over his shoulder. He didn't relish the idea of leaving Harry behind. It had always been them, yet in the moments when it mattered most, Ron realised that Harry had always left him behind. Ron wasn't made for confrontations, but he had always put on a good show. It was what made him the epitome of a Gryffindor.

Ron allowed George to gently shove him toward the trees and sighed. He knew he wouldn't be much use in a fight without his wand. He also knew at the end of the day, it would fall to Harry. It would always fall to Harry and it didn't bother him in the slightest. He didn't wish to face the horrors Harry had, though he freely admitted to being tired of being referred to as the 'sidekick'. Harry was his best mate. Harry was his family and Ron couldn't help but to worry for his safety as he was Apparated away from the cabin in the wood.

Nick Moretti on the other hand, refused to listen to Harry. He wasn't going to leave a bloke who had barely regained his tentative grip on reality to face a madwoman. Lucius Malfoy agreed to remain behind as well and it was slightly unsettling to be in agreement with the older wizard. The two aimed their wands at the frenzied witch, knowing they would be unable to cast a spell with Astoria firmly lodged in front.

Cho's knowledge of non-verbal spells was astounding. It seemed she had spent many a year perfecting the art, unbeknownst to Harry Potter. It wasn't difficult to remove the spell that happened to glue her tongue to the roof of her mouth, but she wasn't about to make him aware of such things. She remained silent, contemplating her next move when Astoria Potter wilted in her arms.

The thin white sheet covering the blonde witch's nudity slipped, revealing her unclad breasts to the band of wizards. Considering Astoria's hands were magically bound behind her back, there wasn't anything she could do to cover her shame. Her cheeks flushed brightly, yet she was grateful the wizard's averted their eyes, keeping their wands trained on Cho.

"You snagged yourself a lovely piece of arse, Potter." Harry's green eyes flickered when Cho spoke, alerting him to her capabilities. "I think we all deserve a bit of a show, don't you? You've gone and ruined all my plans. It's only fair you suffer a bit yeah?" Cho hid herself in Astoria's long hair and pressed her back into the wall near the open door.

Harry swallowed hard. He adored Astoria, yet he also knew she wasn't adept when it came to warding off Dark Magic. He liked to think it was due to her naiveté, yet in the deep recesses of his heart, he knew it was the Slytherin in her. She had never been taught to resist, only embrace.

Lucius Malfoy exchanged a short glance with his son, his grey eyes flitting toward the back door. Draco hefted the sleeping toddler against his chest and nodded curtly. Nick caught the silent exchange and while he was curious, he wasn't about to draw attention to them. He managed to remain still and silent, even as Draco Malfoy snuck out the cabin.

"You've got nowhere to go Chang. It's over, you simply need to accept it. I don't know what sort of delusions you have, but you're not walking out of here with my wife. I understand how painful it is to lose someone you love. I understand better than anyone, but you don't see me rushing about injuring people to ease my pain." Harry decided it was in his best interest to appeal to Cho's humanity and lowered his wand slightly.

"You're a fool Harry Potter. You honestly believe losing your parents before you could even remember them compares? This is your entire fault you realise. If you hadn't been such a bloody Gryffindor, Cedric would still be alive. You ruined my life. You've ruined everything. If it weren't for you, John would be living a wonderful life and Cedric and I could have been happy." Cho's voice broke and Harry almost felt sorry for her, almost.

Astoria squirmed against the brunette witch, attempting to ease the ache of the wand digging into her skin. Of course, it only drew attention to her presence and caused her sheet to slip. She couldn't do much more than blush and stare at the hardwood.

"Imperio." Cho Chang whispered seductively into Astoria Potter's ear, yanking the blonde witch's hair in a practiced fist.

A flash of pale blond hair, just outside the cabin, drew Harry's attention. He ignored the whisperings of Cho in favour of concentrating on the best course of action. He refused to even contemplate the idea of a duel with Astoria in the mix. He couldn't risk his wife getting caught in the crossfire.

Astoria Potter, on the other hand, was drinking in every whispered word, sighing in relief as her wrists from freed. She nodded dreamily, allowing her eyes to slowly close as her hands pushed the sheet from her hips. Her back continued to blaze from the newly etched runes, but she was unable to resist the curse.

"Mr. Potter, I can't say I understand your course of reasoning, but I do suggest you do something before we're all forced to witness your wife's pleasure." Lucius Malfoy snarled, his grey eyes flickering dangerously.

Astoria Potter stroked her chest, tweaked her nipples, and slowly stroked her way down her supple body. She eased open her thighs and Harry choked on the saliva flooding his mouth. He closed his eyes and raised his wand, silently begging her to forgive him.

"Stupefy." Harry snarled, running the length of the room to catch his wife before she tumbled to the ground.

Cho forced herself through the door of the cabin, instantly running. She didn't take a moment to revel in the sensation of the warm sunbeams kissing her skin. She didn't glance over her shoulder as she heard thundering footsteps behind her. She dug her heels into the soggy ground and pushed forward.

She skidded to a halt, her feet slipping the mud. Cho Chang blinked three times, willing the apparition before her eyes to cease. Her breath caught in her throat, tears blurred her vision and her limbs failed. She sank to her knees ignoring the way the mud clung to her and stared.

"Wotcher, love. Don't just sit there, come on then." Cho stared at the rugged extended hand, absolutely certain she had gone completely mad.

"Impossible, you're not real." She scrutinized the imposing man blocking the sun until finally her small hand slid into his.

Cho allowed him to lift her to her feet and sling his arm across her shoulders. It was second nature to lean into his side and trudge up the muddy path toward their cabin in the wood. She decided Harry Potter must have cast the Killing Curse while she ran and perhaps death wasn't the horror she had always envisioned.

"It seems we have guests, love. Did you invite them? Are they wizards? Well isn't this lovely." The dark haired gentlemen held the door for his wife, smiling amicably at the collection of confused guests. "Allo, I'm John Wells, how lovely to meet you. Judging from the blatant scar on your forehead, I'd have to hazard a guess that you're the greatly esteemed Harry Potter."

Harry gawked at the Muggle, secretly wondering what the bloody hell was going on, when the man winked. Harry shook his hand and almost smiled. While he couldn't be certain, Harry was fairly sure this man was not John Wells, but the ruse was working to his advantage, therefore it was easy to nod while keeping a steady eye on a disheveled Cho.

"Pleasure to meet you Mr. Wells." Nick and Lucius followed suite.

While Nick wished nothing more than to hex the murdering bitch, he deferred to Harry who seemed eerily at ease. He studied the man he assumed to be a Muggle carefully. There were subtle things about the man, which seemed to be out of place. Nick spied what looked like a wand peeking from a slacks pocket, and even the gentle toss of the man's head alerted him to something amiss.

"Cho what on earth have you been up too? Our cabin is a right mess." John Wells easily settled into his favourite plaid armchair and studied his wife.

"You were dead. I know you were dead. I saw you. It's all Harry's fault. If he…if he…hadn't been so bloody chivalrous, Cedric would never have been in that cemetery." Cho paced the battered room, chewing her fingernails and mumbling under her breath.

"Love, that was quite a long time ago, yeah? I don't understand what Cedric Diggory has to do with us, with Henry and with your obvious rage toward Harry."

"Cedric would be alive. You'd be alive. Henry would…Henry would…"

"Henry wouldn't exist. Is that what you really want? You would trade the beautiful memories of our son for a school romance? I thought more of you really. I thought we meant more to you than that." John shook his head slowly with an air of sadness Blaise Zabini recognised.

He had remained silent and hidden for the majority of the argument and scuffle, but now that he was charged with watching over Astoria, he was more in tune with his environment. Blaise would know his wife anywhere, even when she was ensconced as a Muggle man. It was difficult to heed the warning in her eyes as he only wished to scoop her into his arms and disappear, yet he remained still. He retreated into the back room and was thankful Astoria was still safely bound and Silenced.

Blaise had wanted to return to the Manor with the witch, but Harry wouldn't hear of it. He was still a stubborn and reckless wizard even after all these years. Blaise supposed as much as things changed, they remained the same and Harry Potter was absolutely a testament to that.

"I've done terrible things John. I've maimed and murdered and taken delight in it. It eased the pain and I know it doesn't make a bit of sense, but it's the truth. It took me years to perfect everything and even then, it wasn't perfect. You should have seen it, John. You should have heard their screams as I carved into their skin. It was a beautiful symphony and it soothed my soul." Cho laughed and sobbed, covering her face.

"What were you trying to accomplish, love? Why would you destroy families the way ours had been destroyed? Did ye really think that's what I wanted for ye?" John stroked Cho's dark hair and sighed.

Frankly, Harry was a bit bored with the entire thing. He was itching for jinxes and hexes. He wanted to see Cho Chang writhe on the hardwood floor and beg him to spare her. He would, of course he would, but he wanted her to suffer a bit first.

"What was I trying to accomplish? Are you mad? I wanted them to suffer. I wanted them all to suffer. I wanted to listen to their flesh sizzle as I burned runes into their skin. I wanted to be there when Hermione Granger blew up because without her, Harry Potter is fucking incompetent.

'Do you know how bloody hard it was to convince Adrien Pucey to aid me? I mean sure, he'd already discovered I murdered Marietta, but even so. He didn't have the slightest bit of interest in altering the tombs, but I convinced him. I was brilliant.

'I _was_ a bit sad she didn't die. However, she did lose the child and that was satisfying. It threw everything off kilter, which was absolutely magical. Draco Malfoy even left his position! That was bloody delightful. Potter was practically inept without him." Cho shoved John's comforting hand from her shoulder and laughed, long and loud.

"This isn't you Cho. You've got to stop this madness." John reached for her, but Cho evaded him, squinting her eyes.

"You're not John. I don't know who you are, but this is a trick. John would never…he never…you're not John." Cho shot a Stinging Hex in the direction of her 'husband', but her angst caused it to fly wide, striking the wall nearest Nick Moretti. "He's never called me Cho you bloody wanker!" She shoved 'John' and spun on the tips of her toes toward a calculating Harry Potter.

"Waddiwasi." Jewelry boxes, figurines, and even the small semblance of stuffed animals flew through the air toward their intended target as Harry stood stock-still.

Harry didn't wish to kill the witch, but he had no intention of allowing her escape. He supposed he could finagle a lovely locked ward in St. Mungos for the deranged witch. It was better than having her sent to Azkaban. Merlin knows that prison never did anyone a bit of good. In fact, history spoke volumes and everyone ever incarcerated there, if they managed to be released, was definitely worse for wear.

Cho Chang bobbed and weaved, narrowly avoiding the violent objects before hexing them into oblivion. She avoided even a glance in John's direction. Logically she knew it wasn't him, it couldn't be him, but emotionally Cho was compromised.

She hadn't spent months researching runes and a year formulating a detailed plan for it all to fall apart because she was caught in the midst of a delusion. Cho relied on the reverberating chant for her thin grasp on reality.

'_Through my torment, you shall see…you deserve your tears, Harry Potter. Your love more than_ _love is next. Know my pain and yours. Pay your debt, with your life._'

She wasn't aware the words were slipping past her lips as she flung spells and evaded hexes. Cho bobbed and weaved, laughing as the mania took over. She was lost and perhaps she had always been a lost soul. Loss had made Harry Potter stronger but it seemed for Cho, it stripped away the tender vestiges of her sanity.

Lucius Malfoy shuddered before he crept around the splintered bits of furniture. Quite frankly, Cho Chang's madness reminded him of Bellatrix. He knew there wasn't a bit of hope for that witch's recovery, and it seemed this one was a lost cause as well.

She was quite adept when it came to blocking spells and barely flinched when Lucius struck her with a Stinging hex. He grit his teeth knowing he could not resort to Dark Magic in order to apprehend the witch, but he couldn't say he wasn't tempted. He flinched as a thick scrap of ragged wood lodged itself in his thigh and growled.

"Ferula" Nick Moretti muttered, pointing his wand quickly at the gaping hole in Lucius Malfoy's thigh.

It was quick and easy work to remove the thick splinter but it was obvious the injury impeded the wizard's movements. The quick splint and bandage quelled the bleeding for the moment as the shouts around them grew to a crescendo.

"Bombarda Maxima!" Nick shoved Lucius into a small alcove created by a mountain of debris as the wall to their left shattered, causing bits of stone to crash through the hardwood.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry heavily relied on the tried and true spell, but Cho Chang knew the inner workings of his magic.

She had witnessed him use the spell countless times during their school years and Harry was nothing but predictable. She cackled loudly, spreading her arms as fiery bits of parchment scorched her long dark hair. Her mind's eye was filled with visions of Harry Potter's blood splattered across the ground and she knew it was the only thing capable of truly bringing her peace.

"You've got to do better than that Potter!"

"Petrificus Totalas."

"Protego."

"Diffindo." Cho ducked, smiling broadly before she lashed out once more.

"Evert Statum." Harry gasped as he was flung through the air, crashing against the rubble beside Lucius.

Nick and Blaise hurried to Harry's side, attempting to drag him to his feet, but he shook his head. Harry knew they were in dire straits and he couldn't allow them to remain, not on his watch. He refused to entertain the idea of more deaths on his conscience.

"Fumos." Harry whispered, coughing lightly as the smoky screen covered them. "Zabini, get Astoria out of here. Head toward the trees, you should be able to Apparate from there. IMPEDIMENTA!" Harry shoved the wizards from his person upon spying Cho Chang creeping through the gray cloud.

To Harry's great chagrin, Cho cast a Cushioning Charm and landed softly on her feet. She scurried into the kitchen to catch her breath, shrieking with rage. Any semblance of the witch he had once known was gone, replaced by a hellion determined to destroy everyone in her path.

"CRUCIO!" Cho Chang struck Harry Potter in the chest, twisting her wand with hands shaking with rage.

She felt waves of pleasure wash over her as he grit his teeth and the sweat broke across his brow. With her legs akimbo, Cho thrust every ounce of hatred and the burning fire for revenge into her spell until Harry had no choice other than to scream from the sheer agony of it all. She smiled, her dark eyes dancing with fascination as his back arched while he flailed upon the dusty ground.

It was easy to ignore the scrambling wizards, as she had her eyes set on her prize. Cho only wished John and Henry were present in order to see her greatest triumph. She was vaguely aware of two dark haired wizards scurrying about, but as Harry's screams grew, she sighed, feeling the tingles of gratification spread across her skin.

Cho lost her concentration for a moment, when she spied wands pointed in her direction and leapt to the side. Harry Potter's silent scream wasn't nearly as gratifying as his pain, but it couldn't be helped. The spell weakened and he rolled onto his side, clutching is abdomen as his body shuddered from the remnants of the curse attacking his limbs.

Cho retreated from the advancing wizards, though she noted with glee, Lucius Malfoy was still out of commission. She snickered while skirting the corner, peeking around the edge to determine her would be captor's location. She dug her fingernails into the filthy skin of her forearm until she felt the blood freely flow. It was a relief for her to watch the gentle pools drip onto the floor.

"You poor witch. You really are quite mad. I can't say I've a bit of hope for you." Cho snarled upon backing into the witch.

"He deserves it. He deserves every ounce of torment. He deserves to see his wife crumple at his feet and his son's mouth wide in a scream that will never be heard. He stole everything good in my life." Cho didn't fight the astonishingly strong grip of the dirty blonde witch.

She allowed Luna to shove her into one of the few remaining walls and even frowned as the wizards were waved away with carelessness.

"Cho, your family died in a horrific accident of Muggle means. I sympathise with your pain but to blame Harry Potter is a bit far fetched." Luna's dreamy expression would have been completely off-putting if it had been anyone else.

"No, you're trying to confuse me. Marietta said you would. He was there, Harry Potter was there, Marietta saw him and she…"

"Marietta Edgecombe was a vindictive, vicious tart who just so happened to harbour a grudge. Imagine being forced to wander about with 'sneak' etched into _your_ forehead. She was using you to feed her own desire for revenge and your hurt refused to allow you to see the truth. You've got a chance now, but only if you stop this silly little endeavor."

Blaise Zabini's face reddened and he couldn't help but step closer toward his wife. He didn't know where she had been hiding and while he was relieved to see her standing in one piece, her current predicament was precarious at best. He admired the way Luna seemed completely nonplussed, even when faced with a trembling wand in her face.

"You're lying. I can't stop. I won't stop. I'll never stop. I won't find peace until he's dead, until they're all begging for their lives with their last breath!" Cho snarled and turned to Blaise with fire in her eyes. "Sectumsempra." She hissed, crying out in a howl of disappointment when the curse merely grazed his cheek.

"You leave me no choice, Chang." Harry Potter panted, one arm firmly clutching his side, but his wand steadily trained at her rigid body.

Luna Lovegood Zabini rolled her eyes to the heavens, knowing Harry would never be able to harm her. He felt entirely too much pity for Cho and it was obvious in the set of his green eyes. She allowed him his moment of indecision, watching his mouth move and the words flow through them, even as she blocked them out.

"Arrest?" Cho Chang threw her head back and laughed, drowning out Harry's Ministry approved speech. "Ava…"

"May the Nargles be with you." Luna whispered, drawing the dark haired witches gaze.

For a moment, Luna believed she saw acceptance and perhaps even relief, but the thought soon passed as she raised her wand. "Avada Kedavra."

Luna stepped forward to catch the witch, blue eyes meeting brown as the light flickered and went out. She held Cho for the barest hint of a moment before lowering her to the ground. With a steady palm, she stroked the deceased witch's cheek as a singular tear dripped down her dirt-streaked face.

"Luna…" Harry Potter huffed, even as he winced from the stabbing pain of fractured ribs.

"There was never a choice in the matter, Harry. I knew you didn't have it in you, you never did, and I don't fault you for that. Someone had to do it." Luna shrugged and quickly wiped her hands on her brown slacks. "Can we go back to the Manor now? I expect Hermione is beside herself with worry and well, I'd rather like to see the newest Weasley."

Luna skipped through the rubble, side stepped the larger stones and embraced her husband. Blaise and Nick stared, open mouthed, completely flabbergasted with the strange witch. Harry Potter shook his head, wincing while he traversed the terrain. They completely forgot the existence of Lucius Malfoy until he cleared his throat rather noisily.

"Oi, where did Nott run off to?" Harry scratched his head, glancing around the wreckage of what used to be a lovely, quaint cabin in the wood.

"Knowing Nott he went directly back to the Manor to give Hannah a good shag. I suppose he figured his job was done." Blaise hugged his wife tightly to his side and offered Lucius a helping hand.

"Ohh a shag sounds absolutely lovely." Luna smiled brightly, shielding her eyes from the bright warmth of the sun.

"You've a strange bird there, Zabini." Nick Moretti carefully surveyed the smoldering cabin, his gaze resting on Cho for a moment before following the ragged band of survivors down the incline.

Later, when they were safely ensconced in the confines of the Manor, they'd wonder if they did the right thing. Harry would silently curse himself for his lack of aggression. Nick would scratch his head and wonder how any of the British Wizards had managed to survive a madman. Lucius would growl while Narcissa tended him, cursing Boy Wonder for never casting a debilitating spell. Blaise would sigh, long into the wee small hours of the morning, for his lack of aid. Luna, well, Luna would smile, content with her decision, knowing that finally her old friend Cho Chang had a bit of peace.

"You scared me half to death arriving the way you did. I thought something horrid had happened to Harry and the others." Hermione Malfoy curled on her side, refusing to face her husband.

"Granger, I couldn't very well send Xander here alone now could I? It looked as though Potter had everything under control. Well, as much as he could manage anyway. I thought you'd be quite relieved." Draco stroked his wife's back, frustrated with her anger.

He hadn't expected her to beat him about the head and snatch Xander from his arms the moment Narcissa released her. He was quite looking forward to a heated snogging session, but Hermione had adamantly refused until she knew the outcome at the cabin. He watched her huddle with his mother of all people while he plugged his ears.

Padma Weasley was a screamer and not in a good way. Draco would have cast a Silencing Charm but it seemed his glorious wife had stolen his wand and refused to return it. It wasn't long before he sought solace in the library only to discover bloody Neville Longbottom there as well.

While Draco would never admit it, he had actually enjoyed drinking and conversing with the bloke. They'd had to chase Pansy off numerous times, but in the end, it was worth it. Draco wasn't willing to admit he'd consider the former Gryffindor a friend, but he didn't detest the wizard any longer and that was progress.

"You weren't even worried about them. You just…you went off with Neville and I discovered you lot later completely in your cups. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?" Hermione sniffled, secretly comforted by his touch.

"Nee, love it's Potter. He faced that psychotic bastard when we were just children. You can't imagine I'd suspect for a moment he'd hesitate when it came to one witch." Draco kissed the side of her face and her neck, his fingers gripping her hip as he whispered comfort in hear ear. "I wanted to be here with you, but you seemed to be clinging to my mother. I didn't have a choice really, I had to resort to firewhiskey to rid it from my mind." Hermione smiled, quickly converting it to a frown that fooled no one.

"You're such a bastard." She finally whispered, sighing softly when Draco softly squeezed her breast.

"Yes, yes I am, but you love me anyway."

Impatiently, Draco yanked her nightgown to her waist, growling in appreciation to discover Hermione's lack of knickers. He captured her lips in a quick, demanding kiss, pleased to find his wife wet and wanting as he stroked her sex. He settled between her thighs and slid home, groaning as she gripped him tightly. Draco dropped his forehead to hers and moved slowly, watching Hermione's eyes dilate and her pink lips part.

A loud smack interrupted their coitus and Draco paused, sure his ears were playing tricks on him. Another resounding smack, piqued his curiosity though Hermione was oblivious to such things. A soft moan from beneath him, returned his attention to his delectable wife.

"Ohh Neville." The loud breathy moan seemed to sound from the fireplace and Draco wished his wand was within reach.

"Yes Nick Yes!" The rigorous thumping from the bedchamber beside them, left Draco and Hermione with no delusions as to how Daphne and Nick were spending their evening.

"Theo, we can't! Not here!" Hannah's titter turned into a shriek, followed by the distinct patter of feet in the corridor.

"Bloody hell!" Draco shouted, still firmly lodged within his wife.

Hermione ignored the various sounds of lovemaking and shoved her husband onto his back. She pretended his sputters of resistance did not exist as she climbed up his hips and impaled herself. She rocked hard and fast with her palms flat on his chest.

Daphne Moretti's ear was firmly lodged against the wall, her bare breasts scraping the rough tapestry while Nick shagged her from behind. Listening to Hermione's low keens and breathy moans simply spurred on her race toward the finish, which pleased Nick to no end. He reached around her smooth hip and stroked her quickly while sinking his teeth into her neck. Daphne's fingernails scratched down the tapestry, her caterwauling of relief drowning out her husband's satisfied grunt.

"That was…" Daphne panted while sinking to the floor.

"Incredible." Nick interrupted and forced her onto his lap. "Imagine if that exuberant session gave us a kid." Nick sighed into his wife's dark hair while he toyed with her plentiful breasts.

"A child? Are you mad? I don't want a child." Daphne pulled away from his insistent arms, which only caused him to harden beneath her.

It was child's play for Nick to force Daphne onto her back, succinctly pinning her hands over her head. Daphne thrashed and begged, but he paid her no mind, easily sticking her hands to the floor with the aid of a little Charm. He spread her thighs and waited for her to calm.

"Tell me why huh? Tell me dat you don't enjoy the feel of my cock between your legs. Tell me your tits ain't aching to be touched." Nick teased her folds with practiced fingertips and it wasn't long before Daphne was thrusting against his hand.

"I can't…I can't leave you if we have a child. It…it would…bind me to you for…for…oh my gods…life." The angry tears leaked from her eyes, but she couldn't refute her body's response to him.

"Tell me you doan love me." Nick teased her with the tip of his cock until she was groaning in frustration. "I'm waitin' Daphne."

"I can't you bastard, I can't." Nick quirked his head and slammed into his wife, earning a hiss and tears of relief.

"Seems as though the Moretti's are having a bit of fun yeah? The Malfoy's as well and Merlin knows the entire Manor can hear Pansy having a go. Think we should join them?" Theo Nott wedged his wife between his arms and the wall, leering into her sweet face.

He'd been gentle with her thus far, but an animal instinct seemed to have overcome him. Theo needed her, he wanted her and he wasn't willing to wait a second longer. Hannah squeaked when he tore open her blouse, her eyes wide as the buttons bounced down the corridor. He didn't bother to remove her skirt, instead reaching underneath and ripping her knickers in a single yank.

"Wait, you…we can't just…"

"I'm going to fuck you hard and fast right here and you're going to love it." Theo easily interrupted his quiet wife and dropped his slacks to his ankles.

He attacked her neck with a fervor, sucking hard and leaving purple blotches on her pale skin. He wrenched her legs over her hips and without giving her a moment to breathe, situated himself at her opening. Theo growled and plunged into her warmth, grinding into her. He slapped her bare arse hard and gripped it in his palms before paying homage to her breasts.

Hannah was overcome with the flurry of emotions and the fear of discovery. She held onto his shoulders, inadvertently pushing her breasts into his face, which it seemed Theo enjoyed immensely. She was shocked by the violent quality of his lovemaking but she also found it invigorating. It wasn't long before she was rocking her hips and her nails were scratching a path down his sweat slicked back.

Draco wanted to concentrate on the sight of his wife bouncing on his cock. He wanted to enjoy the gentle sway of her breasts. He absolutely wished to rejoice in the tight warmth of surrounding him, but it seemed the guests of the Manor had other ideas.

"It seems the Manor has turned into a brothel." Astoria Potter tittered lightly behind her hand, ignoring the advances of her husband. "Slytherins never could resist a shag after a bit of violence."

"Exactly, why don't we join them?" Harry Potter wiggled his eyebrows while crawling across the expansive four-poster bed.

"Absolutely not." Astoria crossed her eyes and glowered at the half naked wizard, hard pressed to keep from laughing.

"Stori…the Healers said you were fine…"

"You Stupefied me."

"I didn't have a choice! I bloody well told you!" Harry leapt to his feet in the middle of the bed and shouted in anger.

Astoria smothered a giggle and absolutely refused to alert her husband to his cock dangling from the hole of his boxers. The four-poster bounced against the wall and Astoria knew Ron and Millie were going to keep up their activities long into the night. She shuddered, willing the imagery of such an occasion to dissipate while Harry continued to shout.

Finally, Harry jumped off the bed and headed toward the washroom. Not a moment later, he emerged with his hair askew and his face red with embarrassment and fury.

"You could have bloody well told me my cock was flouncing about!"

"What would be the fun in that?" Astoria batted her long eyelashes with a slow smile, ignoring his petulance.

Harry sat down hard in the high backed chair nearest the door to their bedchamber and plugged his ears. The last thing he ever wished to experience was the kaleidoscope of sounds emanating from every bedchamber in the wing. Between Pansy's squeaks, Daphne's cries, Hermione's moans, Millie's grunts and Hannah's breathy little whimpers, Harry was ready to combust.

Just when it seemed the cacophony of lovemaking had finally come to an end, the laughter began. Harry unplugged his ears, sure he was mistaken until it grew louder. He frowned heavily and ground his teeth together until his jaw ached.

"YOU'RE DOING IT WRONG! YOU'RE ALL BLOODY DOING IT WRONG!"

"It seems Potter is a bit disgruntled." Draco snickered into Hermione's hair, properly sated for the moment.

"Yes, well he Stupefied his wife, which definitely does not earn him a shag."

"You'd still shag me if I Stupefied you." Draco gently stroked the prominent mound of his wife's abdomen, pleased to feel their child thump against his palm.

"Definitely not." Hermione huffed with an indignation of which only she was capable and rolled away from him.

"Absolutely you would. You see, I'd have to make it up to you. I'd be torn apart from having to cast such a spell on my beloved wife. I'd be forced to pay homage to her body until the wee small hours of the morning. I'd have to make sure to earn her forgiveness with sweat soaked bodies and sweet words until she begged for release." Hermione smirked, ignoring the heat between her thighs.

"Yes, well Harry hasn't figured that bit out himself."

"He never did have that lunch with Blaise…" Draco pulled a light coverlet over their nude bodies to ward off the chill.

"Poor Stori…"

"Yes well, Potter always has been a bit stubborn, love."

"It seems some things never change." Hermione sighed and snuggled into Draco's side, relieved he had returned unscathed. Draco kissed her brow, his eyes speaking the volumes of words to never pass his lips and held her tight.

"And sometimes they do love…sometimes they do."


	28. Epilogue

**Ridiculously Long Author's Note: After much contemplation and a few begs...I present you with the Epilogue. I can't say I've managed to get in every bit of information I wanted, but I'm quite pleased with the outcome and I hope you feel the same.**

**I was originally considering an AN at the end, but after reading and editing, I decided against it as I didn't wish to mar the flow.  
However, some readers have inquired as to other WIP and I decided to satisfy a bit of curiosity.**

**Coming Soon:**

**Living With War \- Sequel to - Death is not the End  
The Train \- your typical Dramione sort of fic, which obviously begins...on the train.  
The Hogwarts Games \- my first and probably last crossover as it is incredibly difficult to write. Think...Harry Potter x Dr Who x Hunger Games - because who *doesn't* love The Doctor?  
Mark of the Beast \- a delightful little fic where Lucius Malfoy is Minister for Magic...because why not?  
**

**As always...thanks for reading. *kisses***

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

"I can't believe it, you're still ridiculous."  
"You're simply being difficult. Look at his grace, never mind his grey eyes. I'll have you know grey eyes have been featured in the Malfoy family for centuries."  
"Until now…"  
"That is neither here nor there, as you well know I was referring to the male heir."  
"Jerk."  
"Bitch. Do _not_ strike me! Cissa, Hermione is abusing me again!"

Narcissa Malfoy clenched her teeth in a manor most unbecoming of a Malfoy and blatantly ignored the raised voices from what Lucius had declared 'the telly room'. She adamantly refused to set a single foot into the room, until the Muggle contraption was banished, yet her husband had always been a stubborn man. It seemed even his softening to his Muggle-born daughter-in-law had not altered much if anything.

"I don't know why she insists upon viewing those films with him. She knows he's going to argue with her." Draco Malfoy hefted his daughter in his arms and hoped Xander was not wrecking too much havoc in his playroom.

"Draco, you know as well as I do, it is simply the nature of their relationship to badger each other until I wish nothing more than to be deaf."

"Clearly." Draco cringed as the sound of breaking glass reverberated through an empty corridor.

"Give her here. I wish to dote upon my only granddaughter." Narcissa smiled grandly at the tot, cuddling her into her chest.

She studied the girl's dirty blonde curls and large brown eyes with delight. The child in question blinked her long eyelashes and smiled in such a way, Narcissa was reminded of her only son. Though it happened to irk Lucius to no end, Narcissa had no such qualms when it came to grandchild's eye colour. She surreptitiously enjoyed the infusion of new blood into the antiquated Malfoy line.

"Da! Iunno what 'appen!" Xander Malfoy screeched through the corridors until he reached his father and threw his arms around Draco's legs.

"What did you blow up this time?" Draco scooped the child into his arms and ruffled his dark hair.

"Teddy."

"You blew up Teddy? Potter's going to fucking murder me, not to mention Aunt Dromeda."

"Da, no fuck."

Narcissa's first inclination was to smack her son about the head for his choice in language, yet she refrained.

Instead, with a bleary eyed child nestled against her cheek, she retreated from the sitting room in favour of the nursery. No matter how many times she had begged, her son and his family resolutely refused to move into the Manor. She was however grateful they visited often, as it eased her desire for the pitter-patter of tiny feet in the Manor once more.

"Dada." Ara Hope Malfoy squirmed in her grandmother's arms until her bare feet struck plush carpet.

"Daddy is busy with your naughty brother." Ara evaded her grandmother with wobbly steps and managed to wedge her body beneath her cot.

"Dada." It seemed Ara was just as stubborn as her father, a fact not missed by Narcissa.

She sighed with distaste as she lowered herself to her knees in order to retrieve the child. Ara had never been one to voice her distaste and Narcissa had reveled in the idea of an even-tempered child. Merlin knows Draco and Hermione have their hands full with Xander, the last thing they needed was another child with a tempestuous temperament.

"Ara, come here darling, it's time for a nap." She cooed, wiggling her fingers, secretly wishing she had a biscuit with which to tempt the child.

"No. Dada."

"I don't know what to tell you, he's occupied. You'll simply have to make due with me." Narcissa, reaching the taut end of her thin grasp on patience, snatched the obstinate child from beneath her bed.

"NO! DADA!" Ara Hope had decided that was to be the day to wield her Malfoy temper.

She kicked, slapped, punched, and yes, even bit her grandmother who was severely tempted to toss the child into her bed and vacate the premise. Fact of the matter is, the idea of a lovely holiday in Florence was delectable when faced with her squalling, red-faced, furious fifteen-month-old grandchild. Narcissa gently placed the shrieking child in her cot, despite wishing to smother Ara with an embroidered pillow.

She slammed the nursery door and wished only for a moment of peace. Narcissa 'scourgified' the sticky handprint on her pastel pink robes and mentally packed her belongings. She Silenced the nursery for the sake of her sanity and slowly traversed the familiar corridors as she valiantly attempted to enhance her calm.

"See? Teddy is absolutely fine. You didn't blow him at all. For the love of Merlin, stop crying."

"Uncle Da! Xan eated my biscuit!"

"Teddy, I'll get you another bloody biscuit. For the millionth time, I am not Uncle Da. I am Xander's Da."

"Otay Uncle Da!"

"Da say bloody. Bloody bloody bloody." Narcissa pressed her fingertips into her temples and rued the moment she ever thought she missed the sounds of children in the Manor.

"Stop it! Don't say that! Xander, don't jump on the bed! Teddy, if you don't get down, I'm going to tell Dromeda! Fuck it." Draco nearly collided into his mother and grasped her arms. "I can't take it."

"Silence the room. It worked magnificently for that demon you call a daughter." Draco blinked in surprise and refrained from laughing.

It seemed Narcissa Malfoy was completely unaware of the bright red handprint upon her cheek and Draco thought it best to ignore it. He had difficulty remembering a time his mother hadn't been perfectly coifed. It seemed his children had even managed to mar the memory of his mother. He loved them, absolutely adored them really, and yet there were moments when he couldn't help but to wish for the slightest moment of utter and complete silence.

"Malfoy! They're here!" Hermione bellowed from the foyer and Draco cringed.

He was not looking forward to spending his day with their old friends. Quiet honestly, the only thing he absolutely wished to do was take a nap, but it was obviously out of the question. The sounds of children's laughter and the chatter of their parents consumed him and he considered shouting at them all to leave. Instead, Draco Malfoy set his shoulders, threaded his mother's arm through his own, and descended the staircase to greet their guests.

Narcissa did not smile as children of all shapes and sizes rushed passed her. Vaguely she wondered if she could recall their names. Of course, she came to her senses and realised, she did not care in the least.

"Cissa! There are Potters in the house! Oh my gods, there are Weasleys as well!"

"THAT'S IT!" Draco's jaw dropped more than a bit, shocked by his mother's outburst.

It seemed their guests had dissolved into silence and even Lucius managed to tear himself away from the telly. Hermione emerged from behind them, a feat Draco still never managed to unearth with Ara sleeping peacefully on her shoulder. He was positive that alone was going to send his mother into fits.

"I've had enough. I can't bloody take it any longer. Draco, I love you dearly, please go home, and take your children with you. Lucius, I swear to Merlin, I'm going to hex your telly to bits, and those hairy-footed beasts are _not_ Malfoys! I'm going on holiday." Narcissa sighed at the very mention of leaving behind such chaos.

"You've got a bit of something on your cheek there." Leave it to Ron Weasley to interject and ruin the first moment of complete silence Narcissa had experienced in months.

"Holiday, Cissa dear, where on earth…for how long…you can't just…" Lucius sputtered, seemingly incapable of completing a thought.

"Florence. We happen to have a delightful villa in Florence and I for one intend to make proper use of it for at least a month."

"There's not a telly there…" Draco quickly held his mother's hand as he knew she was a nanosecond from drawing her wand. "How…how long will you be gone?"

"At least a month."

Hermione carefully stepped down the marble staircase, adjusting her daughter's weight. She knew they had spent more then their fair share of time at Malfoy Manor. She quite enjoyed her banter with Lucius and truly believed Narcissa had enjoyed their company.

"I suppose now is a bad time to tell you I'm pregnant?" Narcissa closed her eyes, lest she speak words she would later be forced to recant, and squeezed her son's hand.

"Make it six."

* * *

"How do you suppose Luna is faring?" Hermione brushed her long hair in front of her vanity with long strokes.

"Nee, I'm sure she's bloody fine." Draco reclined upon their four-poster with his arm across his eyes, secretly thankful the children were fast asleep.

"You know how she gets when Blaise is away on business and with just her and Larkin in that big house alone…"

"No, absolutely not. I'm still quite put out with you as it is. The idea of Luna and Larkin completely riling up Xander and Hope is out of the question."

Hermione slowly slid her robe off her shoulders, knowing Draco was watching her every move. She uncapped her lotion and slowly massaged the creamy white paste into her skin. Her fingers deliberately moved down her arms and the back of her neck, with soft little sighs and even a groan or two.

"You don't play fair at all." She started somewhat as his warm breath tickled the back of her neck.

His hands quickly followed, his palms filled with what considered her 'goop', but she wasn't about to complain. Hermione's robe quickly fell to the wayside and it was easy to allow him to cart her off to bed. It was easy to fall back onto their feather soft bed.

The easy was always what she had loved most. Their relationship had been far from conventional, but Hermione supposed its what she loved best about it. She knew now, she never could have been happy with Ron. He didn't challenge her in the ways she craved. Despite their sordid history, Hermione still loved Ron in her own way and Draco still scoffed at her Gryffindor tendencies.

She sighed, groaning into the bed while Draco carefully caressed her skin. It seemed his habit had become to treat her as if she were a cracked piece of china while carrying the next Malfoy. Hermione didn't mind the cautious treatment, yet there were moments when she wished to raise his ire and calm the beast.

"I'm not going to break. It isn't as if we haven't done this before." His hands faltered and she braced herself for the imminent question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione turned onto her back and quickly covered her bare breasts with a sheet, knowing it would distract him otherwise.

"I was planning on it actually…tonight. I hadn't meant to slip, in front of your mother no less, but her outburst amused me to no end."

"The last thing I wish to discuss is my mother, especially when my hands are quite full with my wife's tits." Draco smirked and tweaked a lotion free nipple.

"Did you know Ron and Millie are finally expecting?"

"Fuck Nee, why must you make him wish to curl up and die?" Draco gestured toward his floundering erection, quite distressed.

"There's a bag of flour in the closet." Hermione smothered a snort. It seemed the mention of flour always did the trick. "Now, shut up and fuck me." Draco groaned, quickly covering her body with his own.

He always had a bit of a penchant when his wife spouted vile words in bed. He considered it a special treat as she was normally quite mild mannered, especially since they spent the majority of their time surrounded by children. Draco reveled in the moments Hermione would consider downright filthy and attacked her naked body as if it were the last time he'd look upon it. Hermione definitely wasn't complaining.

* * *

"Did you hear Charlie is visiting from Romania?"  
"Don't care."  
"I thought it would be nice to have him and his wife…"  
"Absolutely not."  
"Are you still jealous? Even after all this time? Don't you think that's a little ridiculous?"  
"I'm not jealous. I'm territorial. There is a difference."

Hermione Malfoy stamped her foot and Draco knew he was in trouble. He had quickly learned this pregnancy was different from the previous as it seemed she was easily riled and easily set to tears. He supposed it came with the territory of carrying more than one Malfoy, but what did he know of such things?

He chanced a small glance at Harry Potter to see the green eyed ponce avoiding him. In fact, if Draco wasn't mistaken, Potter was hiding behind his wife and children. Astoria ignored him as well, suddenly finding the Jackson Pollack he still thought hideous, the most interesting sight she'd ever seen.

"Why are we forced to entertain the entire Wizarding World?" Draco huffed and poked his soggy pancake with his forefinger.

"You're being difficult. Your mother will be returning in the next month and it's really going to be my last chance to see the Weasleys as a whole before your evil spawn make an appearance."

Harry snorted and helped himself to a stack of pancakes as he sat across from his former Partner. Harry, it seemed, was the happiest of the bunch. After what they had quickly labeled 'the Cho debacle', he had resigned from his position in the Ministry. He spent the first year sitting on his laurels and drowning himself in Quidditch matches until Astoria announced the impending arrival of another Potter.

Even Draco had been impressed when Harry had secured a position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It hadn't surprised anyone when he had practically shouted he was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. Harry, being Harry had pouted a fair bit when greeted with half-hearted 'congratulations', but he'd gotten over it quickly when faced with a seven layer chocolate cake.

"Shut up Potter. You named your child Albus. I mean Albus, the poor boy hasn't a chance of normalcy. He can't even say well, my parents were bloody barmy when they named me Albus but at least I've a middle I can use. No, had to ruin that too. Poor little Potter." Draco shook his head with feigned forlornness and even Hermione managed a small grin.

"Hey! Albus Severus is a completely respectable name. He is named after two wonderful people and you've no room to talk eh?"

"Think my name is funny, do you Potter?" Draco smirked as if they were eleven years old meeting for the very first time and Harry couldn't help but to shudder.

"About Charlie…" Hermione wiped her hands on her apron and ruffled Xander's curls before eying her husband.

"I heard the Ministry matched him with a dragon wrangler. Apparently she comes from a well known Romanian family." Astoria Potter was completely oblivious to the angry glower on Draco's face and prattled on. "I believe her name is Dalina Petran and she's absolutely brilliant. I suppose she could put even our Hermione to shame and…"

Draco ignored Astoria in favour of watching his wife's face pale. His grey eyes narrowed as she began wringing her hands and bustling about their kitchen. He was well versed in his wife's habits and knew she was bothered. It didn't sit well with him to discover his wife, his Nee, the mother of his children, was put out from the mere mention of a wizard she hadn't seen in years.

Unexpected emotions bubbled to the surface and Draco knew he didn't wish to even pretend for another moment. He was angry, hurt and absolutely confused. He decided his best recourse was to retreat, before he shouted at her.

Draco stood quickly and gathered a quiet Xander in his arms. He knew he should say something, anything really, but his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Instead, he nodded to Harry Potter, whose eyes widened considerably before stepping into the Floo.

"Draco? Did I forget a date for Teddy?" Andromeda Tonks hurried from her kitchen, quickly wiping her hands on her apron in order to embrace her nephew.

"Xander, go and find Teddy yeah? Do play nice." He halfheartedly patted his aunt's waist before venturing into her modest living area.

"Hiding from your wife?" Andromeda presented a lovely array of baked goods on her silver tea service with the barest hint of a smile.

"Avoiding more likely." Draco helped himself to a lemon biscuit, silently remarking his wife's were much better and poured himself a cup of tea.

"Come on then, I haven't all day. Those boys will be into trouble before you can even blink."

"Apparently Charlie bloody Weasley is making his way back to London. I don't care in the least, obviously but it seems to have my wife all atwitter. She wishes to host some sort of Weasley gathering at our home. I don't even allow the Weasel in my home and she wishes me to cater to the whims of a bloke she had some sort of sordid relationship? You should have been her face when Astoria shared a bit of gossip. It seems, Charlie Weasley has himself some Ministry approved Romanian wife." Draco growled, and crossed his arms angrily.

"I've never known you to be jealous." Andromeda sniffed dryly while listening carefully for the sounds of troublesome toddlers.

"She doesn't know I've read their letters." Draco continued as if his aunt had never spoken with a scowl etched across his brow. "I shouldn't have, but if they were completely innocent then why had she hidden them in the washroom cupboard?"

"Was there anything untoward?" Andromeda had to admit she was deliciously intrigued. She had spent many years outside of the scope of the Wizarding World in order to properly mourn her deceased family and to raise Teddy.

"She's incredibly vague and I have difficult ascertaining her intentions, but his are as clear as day. Did you know he asked her to beg off our wedding? He offered her shelter in Romania, as if the Ministry's arm is impossible of reaching that far. Bastard has written her the entire time we've been married, professing his undying love for her and I've remained silent. She didn't leave me. She's provided me with children and I fucking love her but…"

"But what Draco?" Andromeda could see her nephew struggling with his fury.

She placed herself in his position for a moment, wondering how she would feel if Ted were still alive and corresponding with a witch that happened to hold his affections at one time. Her teacup cracked in her hands and Andromeda quickly set it on the side table to her left, before it shattered. She made a mental note to repair the cup at a later date and leaned forward to clasp Draco's hand.

"I will not have that fucking piece of shite red headed bastard in my house. I don't give Salazar's saggy left bollock if he's completely in love with his wife. Fact of the matter is, less than six months ago he was writing _my_ wife, confessing his continued affections. I will burn Forest Lake to the ground before I allow him to set foot past the wards." Draco ignored the sudden roar of the Floo and smashed his aunt's teacup into the wall.

"Aren't you being quite dramatic."

"Aren't you quite the cheating bint." Hermione swore if her husband could shoot fire with his eyes, she would have been a charred pile of ashes.

"Draco, Hermione, perhaps now isn't the time…" Andromeda attempted to intercede on behalf of her loved ones only to receive scathing glowers in return.

"Cheating, that's absolutely absurd!"

"Is it? I've read your correspondence and you expect me to simply welcome that dragon fucking, wife wooing, poetry writing, simpering sop of a son of a bitch into my home? My fucking home Granger?" Draco twirled his wand only to keep from hexing his very pregnant wife. He eyed the prominent bulge, unsuccessfully hidden beneath a multi-patterned skirt he simply knew was the work of Molly Weasley.

"Y-you read them? You invaded my privacy to…to…" Hermione floundered, her cheeks flushing and even Andromeda felt uncomfortable. "You've nothing to fret about. It's not as if we can divorce."

"I can leave." Hermione took a small step forward, only for her shiny brown eyes to widen as her husband stepped away.

"You would leave, over a few letters? That's ridiculous. It's not as if I've carried on a long torrid affair with him. He's in bloody Romania. I'm set to have more of your children, if that's not commitment I don't know what is." Andromeda led Hermione to an overstuffed chair near the hearth as it looked the poor witch was swaying on her swollen feet.

"An affair of the heart then. You're the one who spent forever teaching me the value of communication. You're the one who was bloody furious when I had tea with Daphne, regardless of the fact she just so happened to be big as a house when Moretti was on mission." Draco's lip twitched as he valiantly attempted to keep his snarls to the minimum.

He didn't wish to argue with her, hence why he had vacated the premises in the first place. However, he knew his wife was not the sort of woman to allow him such peace. She constantly felt the need to badger him until they sorted their issues. Normally, he appreciated the effort, yet since he had found the small bundle of letters, everything had changed.

"Yes, but at one point you had a sexual relationship with her." Hermione cringed as her back continued to plague her with errant twinges.

"You dated him."

"I dated Ron as well and…"

"Exactly and how many times have I allowed him into our home?" Hermione closed her eyes, twirling a curl around her forefinger and Draco knew she was carefully considering his words. "Did we have a celebration when he and Millie returned from their half year holiday? I certainly recall we didn't. I'm sure Dragon Bastard's mother is preparing a delightful Weasley extravaganza and I'll have you know Bill, Fleur and their pretentious children are arriving in the next few days as well. So tell me Nee, why is it you must celebrate the return of a man you haven't seen since you were blown up, if he happens to be nothing more than an old friend?"

His eyes narrowed when Hermione winced and his first inclination was to cross the space and inquire as to her welfare, but he was still entirely too angry for such things. Instead, his concerned grey eyes flitted to Andromeda, who nodded quickly and kneeled beside his wife.

"I…I…you have to understand. I never encouraged him. I-I don't know why he's so insistent. I thought…perhaps if…if Charlie could see we're actually happy…he'd stop."

Teddy and Xander tiptoed into the kitchen, intent upon snatching a few biscuits, in the midst of Hermione and Draco's heated argument. Teddy loaded his arms with biscuits and scones, but Xander stood quietly listening to his parents. He wasn't about to turn down a perfectly good biscuit, regardless of his parent's anger.

As they slipped out of the kitchen amid giggles and dropped biscuits, Xander heard his mother's voice crack. He gestured to the pink haired boy with a crooked finger and they crept into the living area to crawl behind a sofa. They munched their biscuits, each wishing they had a spot of milk, when Teddy broke the silence.

"Xan, why your mummy and daddy yell so much?" Six year old Xander sighed dramatically and dropped his chocolate biscuit onto his leg.

"My daddy went away. Da is my da. My mummy yell lots but she went way too. Mum-mum is my mum-mum. They not yell lots like daddy and mummy, but big peoples yell some times. They use big big words too." Draco and Hermione exchanged a guilty glance and as for Andromeda, she suspected Hermione was in the throws of bringing more children into the world, yet remained silent.

"My mummy and daddy died. They fighted a big bad wizard guy and Dromie tolded me lots of peoples died. My granpa died too. Xan? What's died?" Teddy Lupin's hair, once a brilliant shade of pink, sombered to a muddy brown and Xander felt bad for his only friend.

"Da says died is sweeping forever. My daddy died. I heared mum-mum and da and they sayed it." Teddy's shoulders slumped and Xander quickly threw his arm over his friend.

"Yeah but, you gots a new daddy and a new mummy and a sister too. Your mummy is having more babies and you have a whole big lotta people."

"You have Dromie and babies smell. They cwy a lot a lot and they do all the poops in their pants. Babies make da and mum-mum sweepy too. They not pway. They not laugh. They go uuuuuuuugh and is not fun." Andromeda quickly covered her mouth, hoping against hope the tots had not heard her muffled laughter.

"Yeah but I wanna mummy and daddy."

"You can has mine. They yell and yell like my ol' mummy and daddy and I no like it."

"Did your ol' mummy and daddy die cuz they do all of the yellin'? Dooze yellin' makes you die?" Hermione hid her face in the corner of her cardigan, in order to wipe the tears which had escaped.

"No. Yellin' not makes you die."

"How you know?"

"Won yells all da time and he not die."

"Xan?"

"Teddy, I wanna eat all the biscuits cuz its weally quiet and we get in twouble. What?" Even Draco managed the smallest sad smile at the exasperation evident in his son's voice.

"Why do they yells a lot and a lot?" Teddy shoved half a scone into his mouth, wishing the entire bit would fit and waited patiently for the answer.

"Unca Bwaise say some times big peoples dupit and no say sorry." Xander shrugged and shoved his half eaten biscuit into his mouth unceremoniously.

"I do believe you lot have been sufficiently schooled by a pair of five year olds." Andromeda struggled to her feet, the first real sign of her age and avoided the sofa where the tots were hiding.

"I SIX DROMIE!"

"Malfoy…" Hermione began, worrying her lip as she had done her entire life. "Draco. I'm sorry. I should have informed you. I probably should have let you respond, but I…you see…his family is sort of my family and…"

"I'm your family." Draco whispered as he took small steps toward his wife.

"Me too." Came the tiny voice of Xander, who just so happened to be peeking around the corner of his hiding place, in order to spy upon his parents. "Da, mum-mum looks yucky." Xander abandoned his impressive pile of spoils and his feet thumped loudly across Andromeda's hardwood.

"I know you are!" Hermione groaned loudly and Draco couldn't help but to noticed the beads of sweat dripping down her brow.

"Nee…"

"No, let me finish. I'm a Gryffindor. We don't simply give up on people just because they've crossed an imaginary line."

"I know."

"I know you're angry with me, I understand it now. I-I wasn't thinking about you then and I should have. Can you be angry with me later? You can't just…leave. You can't." Hermione's fingertips were white from clenching the arm of the chair and until she released a hiss, Draco honestly hadn't the slightest idea of her issue.

"I don't think I could leave you if I tried." Draco dragged Hermione to her feet and felt her stomach tighten against his. "We should probably take you to St. Mungo's, love."

"No! I want to go home. I can't have them there, not after what happened with Hope." Hermione allowed her head to drop to his chest, desperately clutching his forearms.

"Hermione Jean Malfoy, nothing happened with Ara Hope. She's perfectly fine, a bit of a saucy minx, but perfectly fine." Draco waited until her wave of pain passed, rubbing between her shoulder blades just the way she adored.

"I know she's fine. They just…they just took her away and they refused to bring her back and…" Draco closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

Ara Hope had squalled her way into the world and then gone silent. The Healers and Mediwitches on staff had gone completely bonkers rushing about. They smiled and quickly bundled their daughter and whisked her away.

Short of hexing the staff, it was quite difficult to regain their child. They had blasphemed against the Healers and Apparated home the moment Hermione was able. It was not an experience he wished to repeat, though their options were quite limited.

"What would you like me to do?" Draco knew there was no point in arguing with her and after their latest row, he decided he could go the rest of his life without another.

"Love me. Stay with me. Never ask me to do this again." Hermione groaned and as her knees began to buckle, he knew exactly what to do.

"Dromeda, could you keep Xander for us for a bit? It seems we're going to be indisposed."

"I could send a Patronus to St. Mungo's if you like…" Andromeda quickly offered, seeing as Hermione was in dire straits.

"I think we're prefer if you could send one to Luna Zabini. I can't Floo with Nee in her current condition, therefore I'm simply going to Apparate her home and hope for the best." Draco quickly kissed her brow and at that moment, Charlie Weasley was the furthest thing from his mind, just the way it should be.

"Don't…splinch…me."

* * *

"I can't believe it."  
"You say that every year. It's not as if it's going to change."  
"I know, but Hufflepuff? Merlin, even Gryffindor would have been better than Hufflepuff."  
"It speaks to his loyalty above all else."  
"Yes, yes very admirable. My father didn't speak to me for almost a year."  
"I remedied that situation if you'll recall."  
"Oh yes, even father couldn't remain angry once you refused to send him his biscuits. Mother says he even refused to watch those films with the hairy little beasts."  
"As if hobbits have anything to do with his ranting."  
"A Malfoy in Hufflepuff. It's a good thing my parents kept all the ancestral portraits."

Draco Malfoy continued to grumble as his family traversed the crowd of Muggles in King's Cross Station. Hermione scurried ahead, determined to keep a firm hand on their son, while Xander and Teddy eyed the various witches nearest the platform.

"It's alright, you'll be in Slytherin won't you Rosie?" Draco snuggled into Rosaleen's silky light brown hair and sighed.

Their youngest child looked the most like her mother, yet she was irrevocably daddy's girl. Her sparkling grey eyes were the only feature Draco truly recognised of himself and now he completely understood how Hermione felt when gazing upon their sons.

Ara Hope's dirty blonde hair bounced as she walked quickly behind her mother and eldest brother. She purposely ignored her younger siblings, more due to her nerves than anything else. She enjoyed being the only Malfoy who happened to be Sorted into Ravenclaw. She didn't relish the idea of being in close proximity to her brothers, though she knew Scorpius was a viable contender. She cast a quick glance at her youngest sister and smiled before stepping through Platform 9 ¾.

"Leo, please stop running about. I know you're excited, but this is bordering on ridiculous. Xander, please stop giving your Uncle Harry such a difficult time. You know how he gets and I'm tired of answering his owls." Hermione hugged her eldest son, quick and hard, determined this would be the first year she didn't cry.

"McGonagall is going to bloody cry when she sees those two. I can see it now." Draco chuckled, handing off Rosie to his wife. "More Malfoys? My word." He wrinkled his nose and affected his voice causing Rosie to laugh heartily.

"Ginny and Greg are just there if you wish to say hello." Hermione gestured over her shoulder toward flaming red haired children with small, dull eyes.

"Merlin no, I don't wish to hear what little Fred Junior happened to do and listen to their blathering about House Sortings." Draco straightened his suit jacket, brushing imaginary lint pieces from the sleeves. "Daphne and Nick are just over there. It seems at least one of their monsters will be Sorted with Leo and Scorpius."

"I can't believe he remained married to her." Hermione sniffed with disdain and was suddenly completely encompassed with adjusting Hope's hair bow.

"She didn't have a choice once their first child was born. It's an old Greengrass custom apparently. It seems poor little Maura bound her parents. Leo seems a bit taken with her." Draco winked even as Hermione's eyes widened in horror.

"Luna and Blaise are here with Larkin and Giovanni."  
"Theo and Abbott as well with their little hellion."  
"You bloody well know his name is Francis."  
"He can keep Xander and Teddy company in Hufflepuff."  
"You're obnoxious."  
"Yes, I am and you love me anyway. Be nice to me or I'll wave over Pansy and Longbottom. What's their son's name anyway?"  
"I can't keep track of everyone Malfoy."  
"What good are you then? Brightest witch of the age my arse."

Draco teasingly swatted his wife's bum before kissing her soundly. Though they had had their ups and downs over the years, he couldn't imagine his life turning out any different. He supposed he would have preferred if one particular witch hadn't gone completely stark raving mad and gone about murdering others, but at the same time, if she hadn't, they never would have raised and loved Xander as they did. As he surveyed his family, he was overcome with a pang of nostalgia. He missed the frazzled days of children thumping about Forest Lake.

"I want another." He wrapped his arms around his anxious wife, feeling the tension ebb from her, the moment before she smacked his arm.

"Draco Malfoy you promised after the twins and then after Rose."

"Rose was an accident. A lovely, delightful accident that I wouldn't change for the world." He couldn't help but to smile as his youngest daughter sat atop her eldest brother's shoulders waving to the flurry of students climbing onto the Hogwarts Express.

"I've finally perfected the salve and…"

"Father's been lead on that particular project for at least a decade, you're making excuses now." Hermione turned in his arms, trying to glare up at her husband, but she faltered. "Rosie is years and years younger than her siblings. She'll grow up alone, practically an only child."

"That's not fair."

"I've never claimed to play fair." Draco wiggled his eyebrows, valiantly ignoring Scorpius and Leo as they ran circles around a certain green-eyed wizard.

It was easy to meet her puckered lips with his own. It was easy to hold her so tight, he never wished to let her go. It was easy to nibble her bottom lip until she granted him entrance. It was easy to love her even when she drove him completely mad.

"That's not remotely appropriate. You're going to scar all these children for life." Draco tore his lips from Hermione's with regret, yet kept a firm arm locked around her waist.

"Is that how you got that scar, Potter?" Hermione opened her mouth to reply with a quick retort, but she froze.

They had never revisited the idea of Charlie Weasley. Draco had been content to spend his time with their newborn sons and Hermione hadn't wished to have another row. She'd refused to respond to any correspondence until finally she had simply given the letters to her husband. While she never knew exactly what had happened, she was grateful the letters had stopped. She never expected to see Charlie and his wife at King's Cross Station after all these years.

"Bollocks. I warned him." Ron and Millie had wandered over with their tot.

It had taken them years to fall pregnant and even longer for them to emerge with a child. Rosie had taken particular offense to little Hugo's blindingly red hair and had managed to turn the poor boy blue upon meeting him. Ron was absolutely furious but Draco was quite proud of his daughter for her exceptional magical ability. Harry Potter had refused to comment, though Nick had spied him snickering.

"Oi! Moretti!" Charlie Weasley ignored his youngest brother's shouts and simply stared at Hermione.

His wife blinked slowly, taking in the witch she had spent years being compared. Her long dark hair swirled down her back and her almost black eyes narrowed when faced with Hermione's luminous brown. Dalina Petran Weasley remained silent, perusing the tall blond and obviously protective wizard wrapped around the small witch and offered him a smile. She growled low and long when he sneered at her before rubbing his wife's back.

"Whaddya even doin' here Charlie?" Nick Moretti huffed, more from being forced to run about Platform 9 ¾ than anything else.

"Romani goes to train." Dalina's hooded dark eyes flickered, which was the only sign of movement.

"Thass nice. You doan need to be ova here." Daphne sighed, she loved her husband, but fact of the matter is she had expected his accent to lessen over the years. Nick, of course, found delight in dragging her to America every year to visit with his enormous family.

"Leave." Daphne interjected. She hadn't the slightest idea what the issue between the older Weasley and the Malfoys happened to be, but she was about to miss the Hogwarts Express departure due to a bit of unseemly tension.

"Sorry, I just…I wanted to see, that's all." Charlie shifted uncomfortably and Dalina glared at him, obviously displeased.

"Malfoy," Hermione stretched unto her toes to reach her husband's ear, "let me have a moment, please." Draco stiffened and glanced down at her curiously.

Hermione stroked his cheek, silently pleading with her eyes. She could feel him soften to the idea, though she knew he wasn't keen on her slipping away to converse with the source of their contention.

"Are you sure?" Hermione managed a small, shuddering sort of laugh and shook her head.

"I'm sure I love you, Draco. I'm sure we'll be alright. I'm sure you'll badger me into having another child even though I am ridiculously old for such endeavors. I'm sure your sons are as Slytherin as the day as long. I'm sure this needs to end. We've come so far and I can't…"

"Aww Nee, don't cry. You know I can't bloody take it when you cry. Go then, talk to him. Stay close, love." Draco quickly wiped away her tears before they'd even managed to roll down her cheeks and kissed her forehead before releasing her.

There wasn't an exorbitant amount of time, but there was enough to say what needed to be said. The awkward duo moved a short distance from their friends and family. Hermione bristled as she noticed Dalina walking with them and gestured quickly for Daphne to follow.

It was the lesser of all evils. Harry would try and diffuse the situation without allowing them to speak. Ron would angrily huff, puff, and probably resort to violence. Draco was absolutely out of the question and he would posture and glower. While Daphne Moretti wasn't her favourite person, the advantage was the witch didn't have anything remotely resembling interest toward their situation.

"I wasn't aware you were particularly close to Daphne Greengrass." Hermione faltered as she couldn't recall a time when she'd ever heard Charlie sound so angry.

"Yes, yes, we're the best of mates. Get on with it, would you? I'd rather like to see Maura off." Daphne rolled her eyes and for the first time in her life, Hermione was grateful for the witch's candor.

"Charlie, I don't understand why we have to do this after all this time. I haven't seen you in years, I haven't dated you longer than that. I've told you more than once I'm happy. I'm married, I have children, my husband apparently wishes to have more children, I wake up every morning thankful I have all of them in my life, so what the bloody hell do you want from me?" Hermione released a long shaky breath and surprisingly it was Daphne who clutched her hand.

"I don't know really. I haven't seen you since…the whole debacle and whatnot. I needed to see it with my own eyes."

"Well, you've seen it. Happy now? This is absolutely ludicrous. We've been married to others for what now? At least a decade and how do you think it makes your wife feel to know you're pining over someone you never really had?"

"Because you were it! I know it's stupid. I know we never really had anything, believe you me I know but it was the possibility that plagued me long after everything was said and done. You were everything I'd ever wanted and I had you…"

"Oh Charlie, you didn't. You never had me." Hermione swallowed and turned to Dalina. She'd never met the witch before, yet had spied her a few times coming to and from the Burrow. "It was a passing flirtation, nothing more. I'm sorry if he's made it out to be more than it was. Truly, I'm sorry. There's really nothing more to say. I need to see my children off." Dalina nodded slowly, understanding flooding her dark eyes and then she turned to her husband.

Hermione hurried back to her excited children and worried husband, dragging a disgruntled Daphne with her. She supposed perhaps Daphne wasn't as vile as she'd always believed. Daphne squeezed Hermione's hand tightly before releasing her and hurrying to Nick and Maura.

"It seems Charlie's Romanian beauty has a vicious temper. Serves him right." Draco calmly sipped a paper cup of hot chocolate while slightly laughing while Dalina shouted.

"Mum-mum, it's bout time!" Xander shouted over the crowd, waving franctically.

Draco propped Rosie onto his shoulders and weaved his way through the various witches and wizards until he was eye level with his eldest child. Hermione followed, tightly grasping her sons' hands. They struggled, however she did not yield.

"I can't believe he still calls me mum-mum."  
"Ya well, he still calls me da, so I suppose it works out."

"Mummy, I don't want to be in Slytherin." Leo Malfoy gazed up at his mother nervously.

"It's alright love, the Sorting Hat will put you where he thinks you'll do best, but if you're truly worried about it, tell the Hat."

"Really? Does that work?" Leo hastily shoved his pale blonde hair from his forehead and Hermione was thankful one of her son's had inherited her eyes.

"Mummy, I want to be in Slytherin, just like daddy." Scorpius scowled, eyeing his younger brother. He never allowed his brother to forget he was eleven minutes older.

"As if there was ever any doubt." Hermione shrugged, knowing it was absolutely pointless to argue with the boy.

With a final teary wave, Hermione allowed her husband to lead her back to their Apparition point. She was more than vaguely aware of the tightknit group of witches and wizards following them, at a respectable distance.

"You always say this is the year you're not going to cry…"  
"I know and I cry anyway."  
"I love that you cry."  
"Were you serious about another child? Don't you think we're a bit old to be considering such things?"  
"Old is when we're dead, love. I've invited our friends back to the Manor for a bit."  
"I'm sure your father will absolutely love that."  
"Part of the reason I extended the invitation really."

* * *

"What were you thinking? Never mind, it's obvious you weren't thinking at all. I can't believe you've bombarded the Manor with Weasleys and Potters…again!" Lucius grumbled, softening when his daughter-in-law placed Rosaleen in his arms.

"Don't forget the Longbottoms, Morettis, and Zabinis, surely you can't take issue with all of them." Draco smirked while helping himself to a liberal draught of firewhiskey.

"Gryffindors, Americans and well, I suppose Zabini isn't all that bad, but that barmy wife of his…"

"Be nice otherwise Hermione will withhold your chocolate biscuits again."

"Bollocks." Lucius Malfoy pouted and Draco was sure he had never seen such a delightful sigh in all of his days.

Instead of continuing to banter with his father, he made his way to the conservatory where it seemed everyone had gathered. It would have been easy to chide Potter or even sneer at the Weasel, but he was much more interested in his wife, which was always the case. She was aware of him as she always was, their bodies slowly gravitating toward each other.

While Narcissa was chatting amicably with Astoria and Pansy, she couldn't help but to watch her son nod to his guests, never taking his eyes off his wife. She remembered when Lucius would look at her so, and sighed with the comfort of a memory.

"If I'm not mistaken, Padma and George seem to have snuck off." Pansy sipped her tea, secretly wishing for something a bit stronger and snickered.

"They do only have the one. It's only proper they have another, considering George hasn't an heir."

"Yes well, the last time we were all together Padma spent the majority of the time shouting at George. In fact, if I remember correctly she swore if he even looked at her, she'd chop off his cock."

"Girls, it is unbecoming to discuss such things in mixed company." Narcissa's blue eyes rose from the tea leaves swirling in her glass to spy her husband stalking angrily into the room.

Lucius held Rosaleen as if she were something detestable, his lips curled into a perfect Malfoy snarl as his head twisted about searching for his wife. His silver eyes lit with relief when she stood and he hurried toward her.

"Cissa, she's decided her brunch was apparently unacceptable. Look what she's done to me."

"Lucius darling, are you or are you not a wizard?" With a simple wave of her wand, Rosaleen was clean and Lucius was free of toddler spittle.

Lucius quickly thrust the tiny brunette into his wife's arms and scurried away. Narcissa patted the child's back and offered her a biscuit while her husband suddenly engaged in conversation with Gryffindors. She was sure her eyes were playing tricks on her and crept closer.

"We told you to have lunch with Blaise. All of this could have been avoided." Theo Nott snorted while patting his wife's bum as she passed.

"I don't need bloody lessons on how to please my wife from Zabini."

"Don't lie Potter. After Hermione and Stori patched things up, I can't tell you the number of times I've overheard her complaints."

"That's ridiculous. She hasn't said a word about it…"

"She's begged you to have lunch with Blaise, that should tell you plenty."

"Well, what does she want then?!" Narcissa leaned against a pillar in order to eavesdrop properly and remain hidden.

"Have you ever eaten an ice cream cone, Potter?" Blaise Zabini smiled, showing his dimples before patting Draco on the back.

"What the fuck does ice cream have to do with anything?" Harry scratched his head, still frowning. He knew he was the butt of some joke he didn't understand and he wasn't fond of the idea in the least.

"Just answer the question."

"Yes Blaise, I've eaten an ice cream cone before." Draco and Theo snickered behind their glasses and Blaise's grin widened.

"Apply that knowledge to your wife." Blaise tipped his imaginary hat and wandered away. They presumed he was off to join Luna, who just so happened to be dancing in Narcissa's flower garden.

"How does that…I mean…" Harry groaned in frustration as he suddenly found himself surrounded by peals of laughter.

"Poor Potter, still doing it wrong after all these years." Lucius Malfoy smirked at his former nemesis and shook his head, feigning sympathy. He strode around the pillar and smacked Narcissa's bum so loudly it reverberated through the conservatory. "We haven't that problem, now do we love?"

* * *

"Another Malfoy safely entered the world." Luna smiled and Hermione was hard-pressed not to laugh at the garland of baby's breath decorating the wispy witch's hair.

She stretched out her arms, eager to hold her child. Luna wrapped the newborn in a gingham blanket and gently placed the silent child in Hermione's arms. She kissed the child's brow and sat on the edge of the bed.

"She's beautiful, have you a name?" Hermione looked to her husband, but he was quite occupied staring at his tiny red-faced daughter with her deep blue newborn eyes.

"Stella." He finally whispered watching the wrinkled fingers curl around his forefinger in awe.

"Did you know Stella means star? I suppose you do considering Draco, Ara, Scorpius and even Leo are stars. Do you suppose Rose feels a bit left out, she's really the only non-constellation in your little family, besides Hermione of course…"

"Luna, Rose is a flower. We opted to name her Rosaleen as Draco decreed Rose was absolutely too common for a Malfoy, but Rose is a flower…after his mother." Hermione's eyes began to drop, but Draco knew better than to remove their new daughter from her arms. Instead, her reclined beside her, content to watch over his girls while they slept.

* * *

Months later, as they laid in their four poster, reveling in the silence after having finally put Stella to bed, they sighed while wrapped tightly around one another. Draco calmly stroked his wife's naked back while leaving the softest kisses along her throat. Hermione shifted slightly, just enough to gaze into those familiar mercurial orbs and kissed his cheek.

"Do you still love me? Considering everything we've been through, all the rows and children and well, all of it really. After all this time, do you still love me?" Draco held her a bit tighter for a moment, slowly running his fingers through the hair he had once considered a monstrosity. He smiled slow and easy before breathing into her ear.

"Always."


End file.
